


Sense, instinct, inclination

by JauntyHako



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha!Dean, Alpha!Sam, Alternate Universe - A/B/O, Gadreel is a blushing virgin, Intersex, Knotting, M/M, Metatron is a sore loser, Omega!Gadreel, Sam and Dean lead their own clan, and routinely kick other people's asses, omega!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-15 09:54:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 37,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3442832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JauntyHako/pseuds/JauntyHako
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Sam and Dean wanted was an omega to manage their library.<br/>Now they have Gadreel who isn't worth the paper his contract is written on, paid for with an exorbitant sum of money and the promise of trouble. After all, Metatron doesn't take kindly to having his will denied.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I have this story all planned out and waiting to be written down. However, since this looks like it might be a bit longer, I want to make sure people actually want to read it. So here's the first few chapters to get you an idea of what you can expect and if there's enough interest (aka kudos, bookmarks or comments. All three if you're feeling generous) I'll write the rest down. 
> 
> I hope I can weave the worldbuilding into the story itself, but for you impatient guys here's a quick rundown:  
> Alphas can found clans and increase their numbers by taking in other families or using omegas to increase their numbers via offpsring.  
> Every Alpha and Omega is intersex by default, but only omegas have a fully developed uterus and only alphas produce sperm and knot.  
> Omegas that are born into a clan are treated as equals and can even lead a clan. Omegas who don't have a clan can either work as paid servants or sell themselves off as indentured servants. They still have human rights, though and can specifiy, to a degree, in which field they want to work. Most of them, at least.

There were four clans in this state seeking to increase their numbers and none of them particulary appealed to Gadreel. Not that he could afford to be picky. Not ever, but especially now. This was likely to be his last auction.

Crowley's people had been nothing but a small core family a few years ago. Instead of joining up with a larger clan Crowley founded his own and made a respectable name for himself. Now he was one of the biggest players in the state, a man who drove a hard bargain but kept his promises.

Then there was Lucifer, estranged brother of Michael, whose penchant for violence made him one of the most feared clan leaders in North America. The story went that Lucifer could forcefeed you your own intestines and keep you alive for the whole process. It was his preferred method of increasing his influence. Where Crowley made deals and other clans forged alliances, Lucifer simply killed all opposition. Toward his omegas however, it was said, he acted surprisingly gentle. His was one of the few clans that punished rape with permanent exile.

The third was one of the newest but fastest expanding clans. Metatron had recently split from Michael's clan on the west coast and founded his own. He didn't have many allies nor the numbers to be of any importance. What he did have was money. Ridiculous amounts of it. He could generally buy what political influence couldn't get him. And if he spend his fortune any wiser he'd be ruling the entire east of America by now.

And last but not least … Gadreel swallowed. The Winchesters.

Usually clans kept to their own business. Sometimes deals were made, sometimes clans allied, sometimes they warred. But things like law, tradition and convention were handled by the individual clans. Until John Winchester married Mary Campbell and founded a clan that even Lucifer respected. There always had been federal law for the clans, sitting unheeded in a dusty drawer in some lawyer's office. Mary had found them and together with the Winchester's brawn they enforced these laws. Most hadn't taken too kindly in having their business meddled with and tried to wipe out the Winchesters.  _Tried_ being the prerogative word. 

Thirty years after John Winchester's first crusade almost every clan followed the federal laws at least in public. Things still got handled privately, but now the people were careful, always on the lookout for John and Mary's sons.

 

They were both present at today's auction, sitting at a table in the middle of the room, their presence overshadowing everything else.

On one hand it was good they were here. No kidnapped omega would be sold here as 'unaffiliated', no two-for-one deals were the buyer bought one omega and got another, less valuable one, off the record to do with as he pleased. Which usually meant a life of slavery.

The problem was that a two-for-one deal had been Gadreel's last chance at being sold at all. He wasn't worth the fees of transfer. He was too old and ugly to make a consort, too plain and genetically faulty to make a good breeder, and had never received any education or training that enabled him to be at least a passable servant. And after six failed attempts at selling him off, the auction master had finally lost patience. It became too expensive to feed and provide shelter for Gadreel. After this auction he would conveniently 'lose' the official papers that proved his existence. And Gadreel would end up just another corpse dumped in an alley. All thanks to the Winchester's presence.

 

 

„I hate that guy.“ Dean grumbled, digging into his pie as if it was Metatron's face.

„You hate every clan but ours.“ Sam reminded him.

„Yeah, but I hate _that_ guy especially. He killed one of our best omegas. Without this asshole we wouldn't even be here today.“

„We can't prove anything.“

„We _know_ what happened. Who gives a crap about proof, let's just …“

„No, Dean. This isn't how we do things. Mom would not have wanted us to go on murder rampage and destroy everything she and Dad worked for. We'll find the proof we need.“

„Yeah, fine. Just move your chair a bit so I don't have to see his smug face all the time.“

Sam did as asked and moved to the side just in time for the auction to begin.

The auctioneer wore the sparkling grin of someone who knew he would make a metric ton of money tonight. He greeted the clan leaders in order of importance, Lucifer first, then Sam and Dean, Crowley next and last Metatron. Dean snickered at Metatron's sulking face.

His introductory speech mostly detailed the rules of the auction, a tradition enforced by Sam and Dean's own work. Whether it was because they intended to buy tonight or if people just got used to the rules having changed, everything went smoothly.

Sam noted pleased that the first omega brought on stage wore long pants and showed no signs of physical abuse. He still looked somewhat underfed but it was worlds better than before the Winchester's rise to power.

„Beautiful omega male, 19 years of age, never claimed.“ The auctioneer said, rattling off various traits of interest. Dean shot him one look and shook his head.

„Too pretty?“ Sam teased.

„Very funny. We need a replacement for Kevin not a breeder.“

„I don't see why we can't have both. I know you have this raging crush on Michael's omega -“  
„I don't have a crush on Cas, okay?“ Dean snapped and reddened when he realised his mistake.

„I never said a word about him.“ Sam said, watching from the corner of his eyes as Lucifer and Crowley bidded against each other on the pretty omega on stage.

„Anyway.“, he continued, graciously ignoring Dean's blush. „Just because you are … not interested in breeding, doesn't mean we don't have to start increasing our size soon. And not just with other clans joining us. We need the bloodline to continue. I know Lucifer's already talking about offering to join our clans and _that's_ not gonna happen. But with both of us working in the field there's a risk that …“

„Yeah, I know. We bite the dust and the clan's gone, that's the rules.“

Two other omegas had come and gone in the meantime, unheeded by either Sam or Dean. Neither fulfilled their checklist.

„Yes, Dean. And that means the families who joined us will need to look for new clans, all our efforts at bringing law to this bunch will be for nothing and within a year everything will be as if Mom and Dad had never met. I'm just saying that maybe we should start looking for breeders. For me, if not for you.“

Dean mumbled something under his breath. They'd had this argument before. The tradition of keeping breeders that spent almost their entire lives in a clan pregnant had never sat well with their mother. Mary had never taken breeders and, out of respect for her, neither had John. It was the reason why the Winchester line consisted only of Sam and Dean when other clan leaders typically had dozens of brothers and half brothers who could take over should things go to hell. And while Sam and Dean would both prefer to breed only with someone they loved, reality foiled those plans.

The silence between them tense, Sam turned his attention to the stage. On display was the most pitiful omega he had ever seen. The auctioneer tried his best to praise his qualities but Sam didn't need more than a short glimpse to see that there weren't many qualities to praise. This one was old, thirty years or more, practically ancient for an unaffiliated omega. According to the fact sheet displayed on the big screen in the background he didn't have any formal education. And while he was tall and, under different circumstances, might have looked quite fetching, he also had a few dispositions for hereditary diseases. Nothing that needed to break out and probably wouldn't with a healthy alpha parent, but nonetheless enough to scare off any potential buyers. Clans tried to keep their bloodlines clean. The bidding started at the lowest legally possible amount, five hundred dollars. Sam had written that law himself to replace the ancient one in the original documents (where the amount was specified as twenty acres of land and half a horse) believing that no omega would ever be worth that little money. Now he wasn't sure if he hadn't ruined this omega's chances at getting sold.

The omega seemed to know about his chances. He didn't even attempt to show off, stood with shoulders slumped, eyes toward the ground and jaw clenched. 

It was clear to everyone in the room that no bid would come.

Until it did.

„Why's assface bidding on him?“ Dean hissed but Sam could only shake his head. Metatron lowered his hand, looking too smug for his own good. Why in the world would someone as rich as Metatron bid on someone like this omega? He could afford the best in the world. So busy with his musings Sam didn't notice Dean's intention until it was too late.

„ _Dean_.“ he said as he raised his hand, the bid now at a thousand dollars.

„What? If Meta-douche wants him, he's not getting him.“ Dean gave back and promptly bid a second time with Metatron's hand still in the air.

Within five minutes the intial starting prize had gone from five hundred to fifty thousand dollars with neither Dean nor Metatron looking ready to give up. The omega on stage looked as dumbfounded as Sam felt.

„Dean, let it go. We don't have an unlimited budget for this. You made Metatron pay more than he wanted to, isn't that victory enough?“

Sam knew before Dean said it that it wasn't.

„This omega's worthless, Sam. There must be a reason why he wants him so badly. I want to know what it is.“  
„Don't be an idiot. He just looked for a bargain. Who cares why he wants him anyway?“

Dean didn't listen. They were at 85 000 $ now.

Sam sighed and waved over to Brady, one of the lawyers that Jess' clan had brought with them when they joined.

„Go talk to Metatron's people and tell them if he doesn't stop bidding we'll poke around in his Cayman holdings a bit, okay?“

Brady scuttled away, leaving Sam to wait. Thankfully Dean wasn't as stupid as he acted and slowed the bidding down. Yet it took ten more minutes until Metatron's people had gotten the message.

The Winchester's, at 100 500 $, were now the proud owners of an omega not worth the ink on his contract.

„Great job.“ Sam scolded, watching Metatron leave from the corner of his eyes. Their victory would cost them dearly and not just in money. Metatron took his losses notoriously hard.

„Shut up, Sammy, and think about what box you want to tick when it comes to picking his purpose.“

Right. Law specified that every purchased omega had to be assigned a specific role, breeder, consort or servant, and could only be used within the confines of that role. Usually omegas that owned themselves specified a role in their contracts. With auctionhouse owned cases like their newest acquisition the decision fell to the buyer.   
It was meant to protect omegas from abuse. Alphas were not allowed to sleep with servants or order breeders to do menial labour.

„What do you think we should choose?“ Sam asked.

„Not like he's good for anything, so I'd say consort.“

„Consort? Why not make him your mate while you're at it?“

„Do _you_ want to explain to Mom's grave we got a breeder not a year after she died?“

Sam squirmed in his seat.

„Well, no, …“

„Yeah, I didn't think so. And we can't employ him as a servant since that would mean we'd have to specify his field of work -“

„-Which we can't do since he has no formal training -“ Sam threw in, coming to understand Dean's line of reasoning.

„Exactly. So consort it is. One of us needs to claim him but after that we're free to do what we want.“

„He'll have to accompany us to official functions though.“ Sam threw in. Dean shrugged.

„So what? He can learn how to use a fish knife and no one expects consorts to make smart conversation anyway. All that training on the high-class bitches is completely wasted.“

Dean was right, of course. It would be a blow to their reputation, having a practically worthless consort, but then again, Dean had already embarrassed them with his spite-bidding tonight. And while Dean spoke as if the discussion who should claim him had yet to take place, Dean was too infatuated with Castiel to seriously consider even undressing another omega. Sam knew it would be himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Metatron makes an appearance and Gadreel has self-esteem issues.

 

Gadreel was in shock. He sat backstage, together with the other purchased omegas. That alone would have made him weep with relief. But he'd not only gone to one of the most influential clans on the continent, but at a price that trumped most of the others. One hundred thousand five hundred dollars. Only three others had achieved higher prices. A female consort, twenty years of age, educated in history, art and politics, fluent in six languages for five hundred thousand. And two servants who would lead their respective households and had served two big clans overseas, for three hunded thousand each. The other omegas whispered behind his back, asking the same questions he wondered about himself.

„What did they see in him?“  
„Who in their right mind would pay more than a dollar for him?“

And, most importantly: „What role will they even assign him? He's useless. And old.“

And ugly and stupid and so many other things. Gadreel knew even without others saying it. He should have felt joyous, proud even. Instead he only awaited his alphas with an impending sense of dread. He could never live up to the exorbitant price they'd paid for him. Whatever the reason they bought him, he would fail at it.

Some omegas began oooing and aaaing as Sam and Dean Winchester entered. Both of them tall and strong and oozing easy confidence they were the prime example of everything an Alpha should be. The brothers did everything together, inseparable from earliest childhood. There were rumours about just  _how_ far that everything reached and Gadreel, while never taking part in idle gossip, could understand their appeal. The thought alone of being claimed by one, or even both, of them send shivers down his spine. And then he realised that it was no irrelevant dream he had. The chances stood two to one that they would be, by law, required to claim him in the near future. 

He had just reached that realisation when Sam Winchester sat down between him and another omega who only barely refrained from touching him.

„Hey, …“

„Gadreel.“ his brother threw in and Sam smiled.

„Gadreel, right. I'm Sam, this is Dean. We're your alphas.“

„I know.“ Gadreel said and bit his tongue. The consort-omega on his other side rolled her eyes. He should have said it was an honour meeting his alpha. Sam _knew_ he knew who they were. The introductions were just a formality. He had managed to fuck up within the first five seconds. That had to be a new record even for him.

„Of course you do. How about we'll go outside while my brother deals with the paperwork? Come on.“

Sam stood up and helped Gadreel to his feet. Formally it should have been the other way round – and the other omegas with their expressions clearly indicated how his behaviour was received – but he couldn't find it in him to be ashamed of that one too. The anxiety left his legs weak and shaking. If not for Sam's help he feared he'd tumble to the ground in a heap of embarrassment.

 

The cold November air stung his bare skin as they stepped outside, the warmth of the auction house not lasting long.

„We'll stop by a tailor on our way home, get you outfitted.“ Sam said with a sidelook at Gadreel's bare chest. Technically omegas were only required to be shirtless on stage and got dressed after they'd been purchased. The fact was simply that this pair of trousers was the only thing Gadreel owned. Born to clanless omegas, doing odd jobs here and there he'd been forced to sell himself to the auction house if he wanted to have another meal. That had been almost fifteen years ago. A couple of times a clan bought him only to inevitably give him back after a few weeks. He had never been worth the money they paid.

He followed Sam to their car. He didn't recognise the model, not an expensive brand he saw that much, but from the way Sam let his hands glide over the hood it had sentimental value.

He got into the back seat with Sam occupying the passenger seat. The heating quickly warmed the space up while they waited for Dean to finish with the formalities.

Gadreel regretted not having the chance to take a peek at his contract. He couldn't fathom what the brothers would want him for. Alphas like them could have any omega they wanted, they had the money to afford the best and brightest. He wasn't trained or educated. Perhaps they wanted him as a breeder after all. He had hereditary diseases in his family but if the Winchester's looked to introduce or enhance a specific trait into the bloodline they might have chosen him nonetheless. He was tall for an omega, stronger too. Gadreel still wasn't sure if that was enough but before he could ask Sam, Dean slipped into the car and handed Sam the paperwork.

„That idiot had the nerve to try and sell me another omega under the counter.“ he said as he drove out of the parking lot. „I told him if he did that again I'd be the first to stand on his doorstep with a warrant. It's not like we don't know that it's still done but how much of an idiot do you have to be to try something like that?“

Sam didn't have a chance to answer his brother, for Dean went on to complain at length about just about anything. Auctioneers, criminals, stupid people, other clans. He only stopped when they reached the tailor Sam had mentioned.

 

The place was as fancy as they got. It wasn't the type of shop to feature ready-made clothes. Instead you went in to have a chat with the owner, some tea and biscuits perhaps. And, while you were at it, you might have measurements taken and order a suit for the kind of money Gadreel only ever heard about. On his own he couldn't afford to sweep the floors in this shop.

He didn't know how to feel when they entered and Sam ordered, almost off-handedly, an entire wardrobe for him. The shop's owner, an elderly woman with gold rimmed spectacles, had him stand on a small pedestal, taking his measurements with practiced ease. Only fifteen years of being herded from auction to auction kept him from feeling exposed. At least this time only three people stared at his body.

„What style did you have in mind?“ the tailor asked.

„Something simple but appropriate for every day. A couple of more fancy outfits for dinner parties.“

Dinner parties? Gadreel thought just as the tailor asked: „He's your consort, then?“

He couldn't possibly be … But Sam nodded, smiling lightly at Gadreel. He almost dropped off his pedestal. Consort? He was miles away from even being remotely qualified to be the consort of anyone, much less Sam Winchester. He didn't even know how to behave in an informal setting, there was no way he wouldn't utterly embarrass himself and his alpha at an official function.

„Gadreel? You ok?“ Dean asked, having apparently noticed how pale he'd gotten.

„Oh dear.“ The tailor said. „You better sit down, darling. I'm finished with the measurements at any rate.“

Gadreel did as told, managing only so not to fall face first into the chair next to Sam. While the tailor kept busy in the back room, he stared ahead, trying to calm his racing heart. He hadn't been consort-material fifteen years ago still young and at least marginally better looking. He certainly wasn't now, old, washed-out, with no education and no clue about high society.

„What's wrong?“

Sam's hand rested on his shoulders, warm and heavy.

Gadreel swallowed, his throat too dry for comfort. Before he could explain himself, however, the bell over the door announced another customer.

Sam stiffened next to him. It was Metatron.

„Ah, Sam. Dean. Fancy meeting you here.“

„Yeah, fancy my ass. You followed us.“ Dean retorted.

„Now, now. I hardly need to follow you around.“ Metatron said as he sauntered through the shop, picking up fabric examples here, admiring a sewing pattern there. Gadreel didn't miss the way Metatron looked at him when he thought Dean and Sam wouldn't notice. He inched closer to Sam who responded by throwing an arm around his shoulder.

„Well.“ Metatron said upon noticing the gesture with a frown. „Since we _coincidentally_ met already, I might as well make you a … business proposal.“

„And what would that be?“

„The omega.“ he said without hesitation. „I'll pay double.“

„No.“

„Triple, then.“

„ _No_.“

The last no had come from Sam who by now looked even more pissed off than his brother. A feat considering Dean's deathglare.

„Private omega trade is illegal. He's not for sale and never will be.“

Instead of giving in, Metatron only scoffed.

„Please. You and me both know that you don't really want this one. You bid for him to spite me and congratulations, you succeeded. Consider me duly spited.“

_Spited_ Dean mouthed over Sam's shoulder. It took Gadreel almost a minute to realise he was being addressed. 

„It doesn't matter why we bought him.“ Sam said. „Fact is, he's ours. If you attempt to buy him off us again, it will have legal consequences.“

„Come on, Sam … we're all friends here, aren't we?“

„No. Get out.“

Metatron had no other choice but to obey. With a last angry 'This will have consequences', he left the shop just as the tailor came back in, having strategically kept away from the private business of her customers. Gadreel barely saw her showing Sam different colour palettes. The message had finally reached his brain.

They didn't really want him. The Winchester's had only bought him so someone else wouldn't. He was the unfortunate byproduct of political maneuvering, nothing more. It relieved him partially. At least now he knew the reason for his purchase and could stop fearing that he wouldn't live up to expectations. There were no expectations to live up to. Likely Sam and Dean had a dozen consorts and they would never take him out to any social event.

But partially he also felt … foolish. He should have known better than to think anyone would want him. And yet he couldn't help but be disappointed. He thought maybe the Winchesters saw something in him even he had missed. Something of worth.

He only shook his head when Sam asked him if he had any suggestions for his new wardrobe.

The ride to the Winchester residence was quiet. Neither Sam nor Dean made any attempts at talking to him. Gadreel was grateful. He didn't think he could do small talk at the moment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gadreel meets the family

Despite his sour mood Gadreel marveled at the sheer size of the mansion. It even had a fountain in the front yard, with gold adornments and sparkling in the late afternoon's sunlight. The whole building emanated a rustic air, well trimmed greenery and expensive flower bushes giving the place an old but lively look. People bustled in and out, most of them dressed in black and purple uniforms. Servants then. Alphas and betas that kept the mansion running. Black was the colour for alphas and betas, while omega servants typically wore grey. Indentured omegas like himself wore collars or wristbands in the clan's colour, purple in the Winchester's case. Both Sam and Dean wore amethyst rings to show their allegiance.

„The mansion is older than the clan.“ Sam said as they walked up to the front door. A man smelling of motor oil opened the door for them. Dean excused himself immediately, walking away with the supposed servant who spoke to him in a low but urgent voice.

Gadreel followed Sam through the entrance hall.

„It belonged to our grandfather on our father's side. I think we have another three or so across the states but this one was closest to the other clans, so we took up residence here. No sense in trying to bring law and order to the world when you live at the ass end of nowhere, right?“

Gadreel only nodded. Sam's shoes clicked on the marble while his own bare feet only made awkward slapping noises. It was such a small thing but he was glad when they took the stairs up, where the ground was carpeted.

„We didn't really expect to buy a consort.“ Sam said, clearing his throat. He looked downright uncomfortable. „But Dean called ahead and your room should be ready by now. It's right next to mine, come take a look.“

During his life at the auction house he had occupied a narrow cot in a room with a dozen other omegas. If he stretched his legs he would have kicked someone in the head.

_This_ room had a bed larger than his old home. As he took a step inside he found himself standing ankle-deep in carpet. 

It was all marble and mahogany, silk sheets and expensive looking paintings. Gadreel had no doubt they were originals. This room was worth more than he'd ever be.

He turned around to Sam who looked at him with an encouraging smile. He expected Gadreel to be overjoyed. But all Gadreel could think of was that this wasn't meant for him. It would have been for another omega, one Sam and Dean bought because they needed them, not out of political gameplay. By now he should be dead, lying in an alleyway, not standing in the middle of a mansion, the consort to one of the most powerful alphas in the country.

„Hey, what's wrong?“ Sam asked, taking a step towards Gadreel. He backed away. „You've been acting strange ever since we left that tailor. Did we … oh.“

Oh. Yes, that hit the nail on the head. Oh. Oh, we made a terrible mistake in buying you. Oh, we should have given you a room in the cellar instead of one with its own bathroom. Oh, you are the wrong person to be standing there.

Sam said nothing of the kind. Instead he walked up to Gadreel in two long strides and pulled him into his arms. He didn't have time to react, was forced to stand motionless, dirty pants rubbing against Sam's expensive ones.

„You're not here by mistake.“ Sam said into his ear, voice soft and too kind. He rubbed his back as Gadreel began to shiver. „I won't lie to you, Dean and I didn't go out looking for you, but neither of us regrets buying you.“

„I'm … I'm not worth what you paid for me. I'm not worth all this.“ Gadreel choked out, throat still dry, voice still rough.

Sam's hands found his chin and lifted his head to look at him. Their eyes met and where Gadreel's were full of doubt, Sam's held nothing but fondness.

„You are worth every penny.“

If there was one social rule that got instilled in every omega no matter their training it was this: Never ever initiate a kiss. It was the alpha's privilege.

And yet as Gadreel surged forward, capturing Sam's lips into a desperate kiss, he didn't get pushed away. On the contrary. Sam pulled him closer, hands scratching over his still naked back.

They kissed deeply, Sam immediately taking control. He dove into Gadreel's mouth, bit at his lips.

„You're mine now.“ he growled and the possessiveness had Gadreel's knees going weak. There was a part in him that wanted nothing more than to be claimed right there and then, for Sam to fill him up with his knot. Sam's scent filled his nostrils, sweet and heavy. His next heat would be pure torture. He was under no delusion that Sam would sleep with him more than once. One time to lay his claim, like the law required. He intended to enjoy that one time as much as he could.

Reluctantly he let go, the lack of air forcing him, cheeks burning hot.

„God, stop looking so fucked out.“ Sam said with a laugh.

„Or what?“ Gadreel gave back. He didn't think he had it in him to be sassy.

„Or I might just bend you over that desk and fuck you until you forget your own name.“

„I can't see anything wrong with that.“

Sam laughed again. It was a nice sound with a softness to it that wasn't typical in alphas.

„I still have some things to do and I want to take my time with you. Can you wait until the evening?“

What other choice did he have? He let Sam go, who promised to send someone to occupy his time until tonight.

 

His company, it turned out, was an alpha woman named Charlie. She and her mate had joined the clan just a few months prior.   
„Our old clan got wiped out almost completely.“ Charlie explained while she rifled through the servants dressing room, looking for something that would fit Gadreel until his new clothes arrived. „Dor and I didn't want anything to do with that after and drifted a bit, you know? Every clan is at war with someone. Except for the Winchesters. They're at war with everyone and somehow that makes them at war with no one, you know?“

„Not really.“ Gadreel admitted but he smiled. Charlie grinned back and threw a shirt in his face.

„There, try that on. You're almost as tall as Sam, it's freakish. With Kevin gone I'm the shortest person in this household.“

„Kevin?“ Gadreel asked, voice muffled from the pair of pants that followed the shirt. The shirt fit tightly, grey with purple stripes around the hem and cuffs. The pants were a bit too short but would suffice for a few days.

„One of our omegas, best lawyer slash librarian we ever had. He got killed by Metatron's goons. You're his replacement.“

The buttonholes suddenly seemed too small to let the buttons through. Gadreel fiddled with his shirt, trying to force the buttons closed without much success.

„I'm … not.“

„Huh?“  
„I'm not a replacement. I … there was a bit of a … I mean, I wasn't … a planned purchase.“

He told Charlie what happened, everything from start to finish. It felt oddly liberating to talk to someone about this. Charlie listened without interruption, only made him try on a few pairs of shoes while he spoke. When they finally found a pair that fit he'd finished his story.

„That's so Dean. Typical. Goes out to buy a scholar, comes home with a consort for his little brother. The man spoils his brother rotten.“

Gadreel, who didn't consider himself much in the way of a spoil, blushed at Charlie's sentiment.

„I wouldn't make a good servant or breeder. Making me consort was the most rational decision.“

„Doesn't hurt that you're exactly Sammy's type. Anyway, you know why Metatron wanted to buy you? He seemed pretty decisive about getting his slimy fingers on you.“

Gadreel hadn't thought about that. But now that Charlie mentioned it, Metatron had been suspiciously determined to get an essentially worthless omega.

„No.“

„Huh. Well, we'll find out sooner or later.“

She led him out into the hallway and to the conservatory, where some people of the clan had dinner. To his surprise the group consisted of both alphas and omegas, indentured servants, employees, and members of the clan, all chatting with each other without consideration to class difference. Gadreel sat between Charlie and another omega, this one wearing a ring with inlaid rubies instead of amethysts. An ambassador from a clan the Winchester's were allied with.

„Castiel, clan Novak.“ the man said just then, offering Gadreel his hand. He shook it hesitantly.

„You must be Sam's new consort. I heard about the situation. Dean has been particularily spiteful against Metatron as of late.“

Before Gadreel could answer, or even think up an answer, Charlie chimed in, just as servants brought them the first course, a light salad that had Gadreel craving something more substantial.

„What, you mean you knew about this? I thought they were supposed to get someone to manage the library?“

„They did.“ Castiel said easily. „But you know Dean. News of his impulsive action made fast rounds. Well, however you came to us, I am happy to make your acquaintance, Gadreel. Have you had a chance to meet the rest of the clan yet?“

„Uh, no.“

„Allow me to introduce you, then. You already know Charlie, resident troublemaker and member of Dean's taskforce. To her side sits Dorothy who leads said taskforce.“

A dark haired omega woman in a grey-and purple pinstriped suit nodded to Gadreel, a solemnity on her face that he suspected was at least thirty percent act.

„Next we have Bobby Singer, Sam and Dean's closest advisor and father figure.“

„How ya doin'.“ Bobby said tipping his baseball cap in greeting. He'd been the one to greet them at the door. He looked more like a mechanic than an advisor, dressed in faded jeans and plaid as he was. The only indication of his clan affiliation was a small patch on his cap. Gadreel couldn't make out if he was alpha or omega, which wasn't surprising considering the man's age.

„Then there's Garth, Aaron, Ellen and her daughter Jo, Becky, Cole, Jody and Donna, and Benny. Sam's Special Children are out on assignment at the moment and aren't due to return for a month. But essentially, this is the core family.“

One after the other greeted Gadreel with many or few words, some – like Cole – only nodded respectfully, others, like Donna, gave him a detailed history of the clan, their life and their occupation.

Most of the people at the table were part of Dean's taskforce. He founded the group to have someone reliable in tricky situations. When things went to hell, it was the taskforce that acted as damage control, long arm of justice and, occasionally, cleaning crew. Dorothy led the group. She had experience dealing with lawless societies and acted as Dean's confidant. Cole, Charlie, Jo and Benny were the people on the ground, the ones who went in and out with the information provided by Garth and Ellen. Jody and Donna worked in the city's law enforcement system, able to give the Winchester's both information and freedom in their efforts. Only Aaron and Becky weren't technically part of the team. Aaron was an omega like Gadreel, and worked as Sam and Dean's secretary. Becky had been a breeder for the longest part of her life but had taken Kevin's vacant position until a replacement could be found.

They were a lively group, chatting and laughing away through dinner until even Gadreel was forced to relax. Castiel's part in all this surprised him the most. It was unusual for omegas and alphas to socialise with each other but it happened. Gadreel didn't know much beyond what other omegas had told him, but clan-foreign people were generally not received as warmly as Castiel. They certainly never knew their guest family's well enough to be able to introduce them.

Gathering his courage, Gadreel asked Castiel about it.

„Oh, it's mostly Dean's doing.“ he said halfway through the main course. „He made sure I would be treated as part of the family. This is my first time away from my clan and I was a bit nervous in the beginning. Dean broke with tradition just to make me more comfortable.“

„Doesn't hurt that you're not half bad as a person. For an angel.“ Ellen threw in with a wink, that Castiel responded to with a chuckle.

„Angel?“ Gadreel asked.

„A nickname for the Novak clan members. We are seen as a bit … righteous.“

„Self-righteous sometimes.“ Jo commented.

„There must be something to it, if Sam and Dean thought it wise to strike an alliance.“

„Don't kid yourself, Cas.“ Cole said. „The only reason this alliance exists is because Dean wants to get in your pants.“

Castiel's counter-argument drowned in the laughter around the table.

„I … I don't think Dean would …“ Cas stuttered, blushing furiously. He cleared his throat and attempted to change the topic. Suffice to say the next half an hour was spent educating Gadreel about every little nuance of Cas and Dean's relationship or lack thereof.

Swept up in the conversation Gadreel completely forgot about Sam. He was starkly reminded when one of the servants walked up to him after dinner, proclaiming that Sam was ready to receive him. He followed the servant, acutely aware of the way his ankles showed with the too-short pants. The shirt felt even tighter, exposing a stomach too soft to be attractive. Sam was forced by law to claim him but that didn't mean he had to like it. Why else would he have put the task off for as long as he could?

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pure smut. You have been warned.

Sometime between then and now Sam had changed out of his suit into nearly the same jeans and plaid get-up Bobby wore. The informality probably wasn't meant to make Gadreel feel more comfortable but it did. The servant excused himself and didn't leave him alone with one of the most influential alphas in the country, but only a ridiculously handsome man. In his bedroom. With obligatory sex to follow.

„Don't faint on me now.“ Sam said, laughing under his breath.

„I … I …“ Gadreel stuttered, having no idea how to convey the message that he'd all but given up hope of _ever_ mating with an alpha and now facing well, this. Sam picked up on his uneasiness and gently led him to the bed, making him sit in his lap. Gadreel was tall enough to pass as an alpha and usually this position would look ridiculous. Not with Sam. They kissed again, slower than before, Sam's hands wandering over his body with a reverence Gadreel didn't believe in. But he appreciated Sam wanting to make him feel better.

„You've done this before?“

„N-not with an alpha.“ Gadreel said, his breath hitching as Sam bit his neck. Shivers ran up and down his spine at Sam's tongue swiping over the bite mark, suckling at it gently.   
Sam worked their shirts open, one hand on his own clothes the other on Gadreel's while his tongue wandered down from his neck to his collarbone.

„Never had a knot? Never had someone fill you up, breed you like a good little whore?“

„No … oh god, _Sam_ …“

Sam chuckled and pulled Gadreel closer again, their cocks rubbing together. Even through the fabric Gadreel could tell Sam was huge. Too huge, he was sure. There was no way he could ever take him. He tensed, hoping Sam wouldn't notice. How rarely his wishes came true.

„Don't be afraid, little bird.“ Sam whispered into his ear, nibbling at his earlobe. „It's gonna feel so good when I fuck you. You're gonna feel so full, stretched open on my cock. You'll never want anything else.“

He flipped them over, Gadreel on his back, Sam covering him and ridding them off their remaining clothes. Cold air ghosted over his hard cock, smaller than Sam's and already leaking pre-come.

„Look at you, so eager for me. You need a knot in you, don't you? Gone so long without one.“

„Sam …“

Gadreel gasped and moaned, all ability for coherent speech gone. Sam tugged at his cock, licked the clear fluid off his tip. Stroked down, past his balls to his cunt.

„You're so wet and loose already. Damn, you really want it bad, don't you?“

„Sam, please. _Please_.“  
„Please what, little bird?“

Sam knew what he wanted, the bastard, and still he merely fingered him open, scissoring his hole leisurely as if they had all the time in the world. Gadreel squirmed, willing Sam to get the message and fuck him already.

„Please, Sam … just, please.“

„Tell me what you want. Come on, I know you can do it.“

Gadreel, cheeks already flushed with embarrassment, didn't share Sam's optimism. He shook his head, gasping as Sam crooked his fingers and pushed harder, the pressure so good but far from enough.

„You can. Come on. Say: 'Sam, please fuck me.'“

„Please …“ Gadreel moaned, willing himself to follow Sam's order. „Sam, please fuck me.“

„See? That wasn't so hard now, was it?“

And with one deep thrust Sam pushed into him. Even with him being wet and open it still burned. He'd never felt this full, never even thought having a massive cock in him could feel this good. Sam nuzzled at his neck again, groaning softly as he forced himself to wait for Gadreel to get used to him.

„Sam …“

He bucked up against Sam to get him to move. Fortunately Sam didn't insist on him voicing his wishes a second time and pulled out only to slam into him again. He set a slow pace, lifted Gadreel's hips up and angled his thrusts deeper, one hand kneading his ass, the other playing with his cock.

Gadreel could do nothing more than to hold on, begging wordlessly for more, for Sam to fuck him harder, faster, anything to make him come.

He was so close, balancing on the edge just waiting to crash over when Sam stopped moving. He whined, trying to get Sam to move again but to no avail. He just about overcame his embarrassment to ask what was wrong when he felt the stretch.

Sam's breaths came hard, his whole body wrecked with shudders as his knot locked them together. Still he grasped his cock tighter, jerking him off. Gadreel twitched, sweat beading on his forehead, as the first spurts of warm cum filled him.

„Stop moving, little bird.“ Sam murmured against his ear. „You're going to hurt yourself.“

He pushed Gadreel down, made him lie motionless, whole body taut with tension as Sam brought him to completion. His orgasm rolled over him in waves, more intense than ever before. He clung to Sam, shivering, overwhelmed. Sam in turn held him close through the whole thing. Dspite the fact that Gadreel was essentially trapped in this position, he couldn't help but feel safe.

Only after a few minutes of regaining his breath and bearings did he notice Sam rubbing soothing circles over his stomach. There was no use in trying to suck his belly in now, but that wasn't primarily what concerned him.

„Sam …?“

„Hmmm?“ he mumbled sleepily.

„Do you … uhm, we didn't … I don't …“

Sam cracked one eye open. Gadreel gestured to his stomach and Sam's hand.

„I'm taking birth control. Don't worry.“

„Oh. Okay.“  
„Why? Want me to breed you? Want my cum not go to waste?“

He shuddered at Sam's dirty words and shook his head.

Sam winked at him and rested his head again under Gadreel's chin, twitching every now and then when he came.

What was the etiquette in a situation like this? Should he keep quiet and wait for Sam's knot to go down, should he talk, was he allowed to talk? Would it be terribly inappropriate to card his fingers through Sam's hair to see if it was as soft as it looked?

Hesitantly he reached out and stroked Sam's hair. It _was_ soft. And from the pleased noises Sam made he was welcome to continue. So he did, enjoying the weight of another body on his, drawing patterns with his fingers on Sam's head and back. He had no idea how long a knot lasted and didn't care much. Like this he could almost imagine Sam had enjoyed this as much as he had and didn't just react to a willing omega.

By the time Sam pulled out he'd fallen fast asleep.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is the last bit for now. The next chapter would be more about Destiel, with maybe a little kidnapping and/or murder attempts?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little more Destiel for you. Also Becky, whose hero-worship of Sam transcends all possible universes

„ … poking around the backyard … probably trying to … didn't recogni- Dean, are you listening to me?“

Dean looked up, blinking to regain focus. Cas had his patented disapproving squint on, which probably meant he'd been talking about something important.

„Yeah, sure of course. Uh. I mean, I've been listening. Really … uhm.“ Dean shifted awkwardly under Cas' scrutinising glance. „Sorry, Cas.“ He mumbled.

„I swear I don't know how Sam puts up with you.“ Cas said, sighing deeply and preparing to repeat himself yet again.

Dean couldn't help himself. Anyone would have been distracted by Cas playing with his pen, stroking up and down, swirling over the tip like … Dean cleared his throat, forcing himself to look Cas in the eye instead of fixating on his pornographic relationship with the pen.

Sam saved him from another reprimand by showing up with the dopiest smile Dean had ever seen on his little brother.

„Morning.“ he chirped, plopping down on his favourite chair next to Dean. Cas had the grace to merely smile. Dean lacked that impulse control. He was already hanging over his own chair, wheezing.

„You are in a good mood today. How come?“

„How is not the question you wanna ask here, Cas. Who on the other hand …“ Dean said, taking one look at Sam and erupting in laughter again.

„Oh, shut up. I slept well, okay?“

„So that's what the kids are calling it now. No need to be ashamed, Sammy. Feels good to finally pop your knot, right?“

Sam groaned and put his hands in his head.

„Why are you my brother?“

But he allowed Dean to tease him a little more. He'd never brought up the fact that Sam in his late twenties had never knotted before. For that he deserved to poke fun at him now that he had.

Cas didn't join in with the teasing but he didn't try to change the subject either. Mostly he seemed to enjoy watching Dean making himself laugh.

About half a dozen jokes surrounding knots and virgins later they finally came back to their original topic.

„Someone's been seen on the grounds last night.“ Cas said, giving Sam the report. „They weren't recognised and security failed to catch them.“

„We had some beggars last year who slept in the shed. Maybe one of them came back?“ Dean wondered aloud but Sam shook his head. He pointed to the map of their grounds, the places where the intruder was seen marked with an x.

„The garden sheds are on the other side of the house. And a beggar wouldn't have skulked around one place for that long. Security saw them first shortly after midnight and then again at 3am. Someone stood in the same or nearly the same place for three hours.“ Sam said.

„You thinking Metatron send a spy?“ Dean took the map and squinted at it, turning it around to match it with the layout ouf the mansion.

„That seems the most likely answer.“, Cas said. „Someone staked out this place, specifically …“

„Sam and Gadreel's bedrooms. The windows go out to the back. Looks like you had a voyeur yesterday.“

Sam huffed.

„As if. The windows are too high up to allow someone to look in. They couldn't have seen more than the lights go out.“

Still he made a note to draw the curtains closed next time. Just to be sure.

„What, you did it with the lights out? Sammy, you're even more vanilla than I thought.“

„We didn't do it with the lights o-“ Sam stopped himself, knowing he had tried and failed not to give Dean more ammunition.

„No? Wanted to see your little pet properly? What was he like, anyway? Omega his age, must have a lot of experience.“

„I won't talk to you about this. Can we go back to business please?“

Dean grinned at him with a promise that this wasn't over yet. But he promised to have Dorothy bolster security until the intruder could be caught.

„There is another issue. Aaron asked me to 'lay some pressure on you' concerning your attendance to Metatron's dinner party in a month. We need to send an answer soon.“

The reminder had Sam and Dean groan in defeat.

„Give me a break. Can't we just call in sick or something?“ Dean asked.

„No, Dean, we can't and you know it. At least the matter of your company will be easier handled this time. Sam will be required to take Gadreel.“

Saving him from having to ask out one of the other omegas in the clan. There were perks of having someone to take out on official parties and not being forced to deal with omegas fighting over who got to accompany Sam Winchester to a party. It meant he needed someone to teach Gadreel the do's and don'ts of high society but that could be arranged. Perhaps Sam could even do it himself if his time permitted it.

„Right, and we just do it like always and go together.“ Dean said, far too happy for someone who insisted on being only platonically involved with the omega who'd accompanied him to parties for the last six months. The argument was that Cas as clan-foreign wasn't officially invited but had insight that might benefit them if he was present. It was a good argument and if Dean didn't act like a happy puppy with Cas on his arm it might even have been convincing.

„Actually, Dean …“ Cas said in a tone that suggested Dean wouldn't like what came next. „I thought we may switch things up a little? It's not that I don't enjoy your company, but the rumours about the nature of our relationship, while unfounded, would be best battled if we were seen with other people in public. I have already received a handful of offers to accompany others.“

For a moment Sam thought Dean would throw something. The way he looked at Cas spoke of pure betrayal, mixed with hurt. The expression was gone in an instant but it had been there.

„Yeah, right. Because you're one of Michael's people and so everyone wants to get on your good side.“ Dean said, waving at the general invisible congregation of people who wanted a piece of politics.

„Yes. Perhaps accompanying someone else might even give us some new information.“

„Yeah. Sure. That sounds like a great idea. Let's do that. Shake things up. Break out of routine.“ Dean paused. „I have to go.“

He was away and out the door before Sam and Cas could say anything. They stared after him, Cas mostly confused, Sam mostly pitying. His poor fool of a brother. And of course Cas didn't suspect a thing. The guy was as oblivious to Dean's pining as a sponge was to the concept of satellites.

„Um, well, I guess we were finished anyway.“ Cas said slowly, shuffling the papers on the desk. „Do you have someone in mind who can tutor Gadreel?“

„Yeah. I mean, I have an idea. Thanks, Cas. Really. I don't know what we'd be doing without you.“ Sam said, feeling he had to reassure Cas a little. He always took Dean's moods so personal.

„I appreciate the sentiment. Anyways, I should probably get back to my duties.“

They parted ways, Cas to his own study, Sam upstairs to check on Gadreel.

 

The bed was made and the room empty, the windows open to let in a fresh breeze of air. Usually their rooms weren't cleaned until noon. Gadreel then.

He found him in the library deep in conversation with Becky. Sam took a moment to admire his new consort. The first time he'd seen him, on the stage, Sam hadn't realised just how beautiful he was. Gadreel always tried to make himself smaller, ducking his head and concealing his gorgeous jawbones, his broad shoulders slumped. Now Sam had an image of what he looked like with a sheen of sweat on his naked skin, lips parted in an inaudible cry, begging for Sam's knot. He couldn't wait to see it again but knew he probably ought to give Gadreel time to get used to his new home.

Becky saw him first, waving and almost knocking a stack of books over in the process.

„Sam! We were just talking about you.“

_What a surprise_ , Sam thought drily but smiled. He sat down next to Gadreel, debating with himself whether or not to touch him and ultimately deciding against it. Just because he enjoyed himself last night didn't mean he appreciated Sam's advances. Best to give him time.

 

Gadreel meanwhile tried not to take deep breaths. Sam choosing to sit close to him meant that he wasn't completely alienated by his presence. Which was a good thing. Even if he didn't know how to deal with it. 

He let Becky take the lead in the conversation, something he wasn't sure he could have taken from her if he wanted to.

„Gad and I were just talking about how you rescued me from Crowley.“  
„There was no rescue, Becky. Your contract was up and I offered you a job.“ Sam threw in, only to be utterly ignored.

„I'll never forget the day you came into my life.“ Becky said dreamily. „I always dreamed about a prince in shining armour coming to my rescue and there you were. Crowley exploded when he heard you were taking me with him, but you stood your ground. You risked your life for me, Sam.“

Gadreel glanced at Sam who shook his head lightly. Apparently Becky's story was subjected to an unreliable narrator.

„Was it so bad being a breeder?“ he asked to get the focus off Sam. 

„It's not horrible. Not like it used to be before Sam brought law to the clans. But there's no love in it, you know? You just get knocked up time and time again. And when you're not pregnant you're either popping out a baby or prepare for the next one. Did you know I had seven pregnancies before Sam saved me?“

„How long did you stay with Crowley?“

„A little over five years.“ Becky said with bitter pride. It forced a shudder over Gadreel's back. Not just because of her serious tone. Under other circumstances this could have been him. Forced to carry child after child without the choice to say no. Would the claiming last night have gone as careful if he'd been assigned as a breeder? Would he even be sitting in the library instead of being filled again and again with the Winchester's seed until it took hold?

Whatever Sam's reasoning in making him consort, he felt a renewed gratitude for it.

„Anyway, what's up, Sam? What happened to you avoiding the library like the plague?“

„I'm not avoiding anything. But as a matter of fact, I'll need to borrow Gadreel for a bit.“

„Oh.“ Becky said, having hoped apparently that Sam came down for her. „Okay. Well, have fun. I need to archive some books anyway.“

She shuffled away, leaving Sam and Gadreel alone. As soon as she had left Sam let out a relieved sigh and leaned back in his chair.

„I swear Becky is a wonderful girl, but if I have to hear that rescue story one more time I'm moving out.“

It drew a chuckle out of Gadreel. 

„You do have a talent for saving omegas in distress.“

Sam sighed with mock exasperation.

„Not you, too.“

Gadreel opened his mouth to speak. He wanted to tell Sam that he  _was_ grateful, immeasurably so. That by buying him Sam had saved his life, brought him into a safe and loving home when he should have been dead and discarded like a broken toy. Instead of sleeping hungry and shivering on his creaking cot, back aching and eyes burning, he'd spent the night in Sam's arms. For the first time in his life his belly was full, his clothes not torn. He wanted to tell Sam all that, but Sam had made it clear he was tired of hero-worship.

„ … No. Of course not.“ he said instead and tried his best to smile as Sam squeezed his shoulder.

„Good. Now about why I came here in the first place …“

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gadreel gets dancing lessons

 

 

A dinner party. Full of rich and powerful alphas and omegas, standing around in circles, discussing the future of the world. He had no place there, but obviously Sam expected him to be his company and so he did his best to learn.

„It's half as bad as you fear and twice as bad as you hope.“ Jess said, sitting next to him and showing him the multitudes of different forks, knives and spoons. „Consorts only begin eating after their alpha, so you can take your cue from Sam. For the first few times you are allowed to stay with him the entire evening. Eventually you'll be expected to withdraw with the other consorts though and you may see a second dinner.“

„Two dinners?“ Gadreel asked incredulously. Even with the tiny portions they served two of each would be a bit much.

„It's why you shouldn't stuff yourself. In fact the current trend is to eat only a few bites and leave half or more over. The servants usually eat the leftovers, so its considered polite to leave them something.“

Gadreel who had always thought of high society as distanced towards the working class found that surprisingly thoughtful.

With the patience of only someone who had to learn the lessons painstakingly herself Jess explained the dinner etiquette among the clans.

She had been educated to become a mate to one of the greater clan leaders. Her clan, small and of little importance, had been attacked by Lucifer's when he expanded his territory. They sought refuge with the Winchester's and so the Moore clan had dissolved to become part of a bigger one. It left Jess with a heap of knowledge she would now never need and the freedom to pursue her own dreams.

Which included studying law at Stanford and passing on her knowledge to Gadreel.

„It's nice to have someone to teach. As much as I didn't like the thought of getting married off to some old fart in a suit, all this stuff shouldn't go to waste. Sit up, sweetie.“

Gadreel straightened his back.

„You might want to think about wearing corsets under your clothes. A lot of omegas do because it's easier to keep your posture straight over a long evening. As long as you can keep Sam from noticing you should be fine.“

They moved on from the dinner table to the dance floor.

„Does Sam disapprove of them?“ Gadreel asked as Jess made him lay his hands on her hip and shoulder.

„One step back, one to the side. Disapprove? Ha. No, corsets drive him wild. Turn and step forward. If he finds out you're wearing one you can bet your bum you'll end up against a bathroom wall before you can say 'obligations'. Dean used to wear them for a while and you should have seen the way Sam ogled him.“

„But … they're …“ Gadreel stuttered and promptly stepped on Jess' toes. She cussed under her breath but waved his profuse apologies away. 

„They're both alphas.“ he said as he regained his rhythm, the dancing becoming enjoyable once he'd memorised the steps. 

„Yeah. Probably the only thing that kept Sam from pouncing his brother. He practically drooled. Wasn't pretty. Hey, you're good at this. You ever danced before?“

Gadreel assured her that he hadn't in fact ever danced. Not formally, anyway. He and his brother used to dance, mimicking the moves of the people on television. There wasn't anything formal to it but still it reminded him of the way he and Jess moved over the dance floor, music playing over the old gramophone. His childhood with Abner and Anna was a thousand miles and a lifetime away. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought that the boy fighting to feed himself and his siblings would end up here, learning to dance for the man who'd saved his life. Hoped, yes. Dreamed of gold and silk. But never thinking that his idle imaginations would come true.

 

Gadreel found that he enjoyed some of Jess' lessons more than others. The dancing he liked, more so when by the end of the week his new clothes arrived, most of them white with gold and purple accents. She made him wear some of the fancier outfits to get used to them and while the frills prickled at his wrists and neck and the numerous layers had him dread the summer time, there was something to walking around in silk and brocade. 

„Be glad you're well built.“, Jess said over lessons, watching amused as he tugged at the collar. „Tiny omegas like me have to wear padding on our hips and thighs. It's stuffy, but hey, what you don't do for wide hips, right?“

Gadreel huffed at that. „At least you can wear padding. I can not make myself shorter or my shoulders more narrow.“

Jess shrugged.

„And you shouldn't want to. I know a lot of alphas prefer short omegas. The softer and rounder the better but who really lives up to that ideal? Well, except for Gabriel.“

Her sly grin alerted him that he was being tested.

„Gabriel … uh …“

And failed. 

„Gabriel, Metatron's son and only heir. Really, you should know that by now.“

„I apologise, Jess.“  
„Don't apologise, learn.“ She poked him gently in the side, making sure he didn't take her reprimand to seriously. „Gabriel is important. He and his father don't have the best of relationships. Which means he may be open to an alliance as soon as he takes over the clan. It's not something Sam and Dean are actively working towards but it never hurts to make friends. Now, tell me who we _are_ friends with.“

Sweating not just because of the high collar anymore, Gadreel tried to remember names and relationships.

„We are openly allied with Michael. Cas – sorry, Castiel – is their emissary. Uh, their colour is red, their motto _Duty before passion_. Current heirs to the clan are the twins Raphael and Uriel.“

„Good. Go on.“

„We have an uneasy truce with Crowley. He has agreed to not declare war on us as long as we refrain from investigating his private dealings.“

„Yes. Sam doesn't like it but Dean and Crowley used to be friends and as for now he's the lesser evil. We _could_ probably deal with him if it comes to it, but best not to tempt fate. What about Lucifer's gang?“

„There are no open hostilities as we have a no-war policy, but Lucifer's endgame seems to be a takeover of clan Winchester. He has made several offers to join our clans, all rejected.“

„Not bad. Lucifer is a tricky one. On the surface he's as law abiding as they get. But he knows the law, maybe even better than Sam does. He finds loopholes, exceptions, old precedents that make him _de jure_ innocent while he _de facto_ really isn't. And he has a serious beef with Michael. They even warred a couple of years ago, leaving both clans weakened. We don't know much about what happened, no one's really willing to talk, but something happened between Lucifer and his father and they never reconciled. Lucifer moved from one coast to the other and founded his own clan and the rest is history. We probably should – oh no.“

Gadreel turned to see what Jess looked at. Dean and Cas entered the library arguing loudly. Gadreel and Jess watched hidden by bookshelves.

„I'm just saying that it may not be the best of ideas to encourage that bitch.“

„I don't want you speaking of Meg in that manner of tone, Dean. She is a good person.“

„She's shifty, that's what she is. The moment you turn your back on her, she's going to stab you.“

„A minute ago you accused her of wanting me as her mate.“

„Yes. No. She's doing both. You can't trust that woman to have only one motive.“

„You're acting like a child. It is only one evening and if I remember correctly, you agreed to it.“

„I wouldn't have if I knew you were going with that woman.“

„And if I had known you would react like that I would never have told you about Meg.“

With a last curse Cas stormed off, Dean in the other direction, brushing right past Gadreel and Jess without noticing them.

„What was that all about? They've been at each other's throats for the past week.“ Jess said after the dust settled. Abandoning his political lessons for the day, Jess led Gadreel out of the library and through the mansion to a part he hadn't been to before.

„I think Sam mentioned something about them agreeing to pick different partners for the party. The argument might have been about that.“ Gadreel offered on the way.

„Ha. That explains a lot. Cas, the poor idiot, I bet he suggested it.“

„Why is this a problem? I thought they got along well.“

Jess turned around to him, something like pity on her face.

„You haven't been here long enough, but everyone knows Dean is deeply and irrevocably in love with Cas. Everyone except for Cas. It's sad, really. Dean acts like a drunk monkey around him. It's his father's fault.“

„How so?“

„John Winchester was a … traditional man. His family comes from the south and they have this weird idea of same-gender love being wrong.“

Even with all the new and sometimes ridiculous social rules Gadreel learned about this took the cake. He laughed until he realised Jess was serious.

„You are not joking?“

„I wish I was. Their mother, Mary, tried to counteract John's ideas somewhat but Dean always wanted to please his father. It's how he grew up. Sam never took to John's lessons that much and we all try to get Dean to open up, so far without real success. He denies having the hots for Cas and will probably take his feelings to the grave.“

The people in the south had notoriously strange traditions, but to go so far as to separate relationships by gender seemed far-fetched even for them. But apparently it was what Dean believed to be true. 

His musings were cut short by music. 

He had no idea the mansion had a music room. But then again, there were few things the mansion didn't have so perhaps he shouldn't be surprised. The room held every musical instrument ever invented. Harps, violins, flutes, trumpets, saxophones, guitars, cellos and various percussion instruments were only a few Gadreel recognised. Even a pair of bagpipes hung from the wall between a french horn and a lute.

A white piano dominated the room, the source of the music they'd heard.

„Cole. I didn't expect to see you here.“  
Cole whipped around as if someone had shot him, eyes wide and reddening to a worrisome degree.

„I wasn't, I … I waited for someone. I didn't play.“

„Of course you didn't.“ Jess said. Gadreel suspected only her lifelong practice gave her the ability not to break down laughing. 

Cole seemed to notice, too, since he frowned and got up, deliberately ignoring the sheet music as he strutted past them. Before he left he turned to Gadreel, ears still red.

„Dor asked me to invite you to our sparring sessions. You're welcome to join us if you want some exercise.“

„I will thi-“ Gadreel said but Cole was already out and down the hall. Jess shook her head laughing. 

„You know, in a different life Cole would probably be the best concert pianist in the States.“ Jess said conversationally as she took the sheet music and replaced it with something simpler. „But no, alphas can't have hobbies. Alphas have to live for the job and the job only. He's as bad as Dean. Sit with me.“

Obediently Gadreel took his seat next to Jess. He had a fear where this was going.

And true to his guess, he spent the next hour mulling over sheet music. In theory the idea of getting a hobby to occupy his time with wasn't bad. Consorts typically had a lot of free time in between parties and balls. Many chose learning an instrument, since it provided not only an escape from boredom but also a chance to show off in front of the other clans. 

The more time passed however, the more Gadreel found himself thinking about sparring with Dorothy's people instead.

Eventually Jess let him off with the promise to at least think about practicing.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing this chapter so much. Don't judge me. I've been on a cinderella-trip ever since reading Mistborn. Poor kids getting to wear fancy suits and learning how to use fish-knives is so a favourite trope of mine.  
> Also, yes, there may be some corset-porn coming later. I don't know where that came from, but I won't complain. 
> 
> I've been trying to decide whether or not to have Gadreel learn an instrument. You guys have any thoughts on that? And if you think he should, what could you best see him playing?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, have some plot and dancing. 
> 
> This story is amazing, tbh. I haven't written this much daily since ... yeah, actually I don't think I've ever written this much at once. Usually I'm fighting to get 1,6k words down every day and with this baby I'm doling out 4k like its nothing. By the way, did you know espresso is awesome? Tiredness got in the way of writing so I tried caffeine and it made my head spin a little (the instructions said to use one table spoon but I had a big cup so I used four) but its all good now. I can't believe I spend 22 years without this stuff. It's amazing.

 

 

 

After the first seven days under Jess' tutorship Gadreel felt himself to have a decent grip on etiquette. It wasn't as hard as it looked, really.

During the third week he thought Jess made things up to keep him occupied. There couldn't possibly be so many rules.

Now, a month later, gripping Sam's arm too tight for comfort, he wished for more time. Maybe a year. Or two. Just to be on the safe side.

His stomach lurched as they got into the limousine, the evening looming over his head like a dragon ready to devour him. The corset didn't allow him to lean back into his seat, but he felt oddly secure in what, under different circumstances, would have been armour.

„Relax. They can smell fear.“ Jess said with a wink. Dean had asked her to accompany him last minute. Now that he knew about the man's infatuation with Cas the signs were easy to read. He'd been in a sour mood ever since Meg had picked him up half an hour earlier.

But Jess' presence provided some measure of familiarity for Gadreel. He could almost imagine this to be nothing but another practice dinner.

_With the high society of America watching my every move_ . 

And if he fucked up, Sam fucked up. His actions represented the entire clan. Practice dinner with fatal consequences. He gripped Sam's arm tighter.

He expected to be chastised, not for Sam to brush his thumb over the back of his hand, gifting him with his kind smile. 

„Jess is right. Relax. The more insecure you appear the worse it will be.“ 

„How very reassuring. I'm much calmer now.“ Gadreel replied drily, which drew a laugh out of Sam.

„Sorry, but I won't lie. They're gonna be hard on you. They'll want to embarrass you to get to me and they'll know exactly how to get to you. It's a game. But all you have to do to win is stand your ground and not let them get to you.“

Easier said than done. Sam had a lifetime of experience with events like these and even Dean, broody and passive-aggressively tipping the valet, carried himself with practiced ease. 

 

Cutting the black november sky stood Metatron's residence, all glass and metal in sharp angles. There wasn't a soft corner on the building, no warm colours or rose shrubs. Gadreel cast a second look at the plants. Even they looked calculated rather than grown naturally. Beside him Jess made a comment about the newly-rich and he was about to ask her to elaborate, when their host made his appearance.

„Sam, Dean, _so_ glad you could make it. And the lovely lady Jessica.“ 

Metatron bowed dramatically and kissed Jess' hand. Gadreel marveled at her self-control. There was no indication how she felt about the action. Instead she smiled and curtsied and let Dean lead them into the building. Before the crowd swallowed them she winked at Gadreel, the last friendly gesture he'd likely see for the evening.

„And Gadreel. I almost didn't recognise you all dolled up like that.“

„A month can make a huge difference.“ he said, hoping to god it was the right thing. Metatron did his little patronising smile.

„Ah, but what's really important is what is inside. And that, my friend, never changes. But you two lovebirds enjoy your evening.“

Gadreel bit his cheeks. He imposed his presence on a society that shouldn't have to suffer it. Metatron knew it and would remind him as often as he had to.

They ascended the stairs into the main hall. Dean and Jess were nowhere to be seen but he spotted Cas with a dark-haired woman who had to be Meg. 

„Well done with Metatron.“ Sam whispered into his ear, walking slowly up to the crowd.   
„You think so?“

Sam nodded and kissed the shell of his ear. Gadreel tensed until he realised Sam kept up appearances. The more it looked like Sam desired his consort the less the embarrassment at his purchase being accidental. 

„Ready for another round? Don't look now, but we have a shark on our way. Keep your answers short if you can.“

Gadreel had only time to look up and recognise the face from Jess' lessons.

„What a pleasant surprise to see you here, Sam.“ Lucifer said, hinting at a bow. A young plump omega stood by his side, honey coloured hair and eyes looking up at Gadreel. The perfect image of an omega and stark opposite to Gadreel.

„Likewise.“ Sam replied, his own bow a fraction deeper than Lucifer's. „Care to introduce us to your lovely entourage?“

The question seemed to take Lucifer by surprise even if it was a standard formality. He looked at the boy to his side as if he'd never seen him before.

„Of course. Sam Winchester, please meet my companion Haniel. Haniel, Sam Winchester.“

Haniel curtsied, reminding Gadreel to do the same when Sam introduced him. He never doubted that where the small omega looked graceful and demure curtsying, Gadreel merely looked ridiculous. 

„Gadreel. Why does the name sound familiar?“ Lucifer asked. He tasted his name like it was wine, rolling it over his tongue in a way that had Sam step closer to Gadreel. 

„You may have seen me at last months auction, sir.“

„Ah, yes, that must be it. Is this your first time at a party, then?“

„Yes, sir.“

„Marvelous. Let's hope Sam doesn't prove too much of a distraction, no? There is so much to see. I am sure we'll see each other later.“

With a nod of his head and a smile Lucifer and Haniel moved on to greet the other guests, Sam and Gadreel doing the same.

„So.“ Sam said when they got out of earshot. „That was unexpected.“

Gadreel still fought to keep his racing heart under control and only managed a weak 'huh?'. Facing the 'Father of Lies and Murder', as Lucifer was affectionately known among his peers, did that to you.

„Lucifer was more civil than I thought he would be. I mean, he was downright friendly with you. Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that head of his.“

Before he had time to answer they met the next pair, a minor clan leader from the west with his alpha mate. He seemed nice, approachable even until he turned to Gadreel.

„So, Sam has finally chosen a consort. We all thought it wouldn't happen, you know? From which school did you graduate, if I might ask?“

Gadreel's blood ran cold.

„I- I didn't have any formal education.“ he answered meekly.

„Is that so? Well, you must have other qualities then, no?“

„No, I don't have any special skills.“ Gadreel said and frowned in confusion when the omega laughed. 

„If you say so. I'm sure Sam can keep himself occupied with you either way.“

„I can. Please enjoy your evening.“

Sam practically dragged him away from the pair whose snickering followed Gadreel across the room.

„You okay?“ Sam asked, squeezing Gadreel's hand lightly.

„Yeah. You did warn me about this, I'm … I'm good. Really.“

„You tell me if it gets too much. I'm afraid this won't be the last time this happens.“

Indeed almost every single couple they met made some seemingly innocent inquiry about Gadreel's life, all resulting in him having to admit his shortcomings. He tried to run his responses on autopilot, concentrating instead on how people reacted to Sam. After a while Gadreel started noticing a pattern.

„Why is everyone so surprised you're here? I thought you attended these parties regulary?“

Sam chuckled, leading him away from the crowd and to their assigned table. 

„It's platitude. Everyone's acting like seeing the other is a huge surprise, as if we didn't meet each other at least once a month. Dean hates it. You should watch his reactions sometimes, it's hilarious. By the way, do you see him anywhere?“

Gadreel let his eyes wander over the crowd. There were only a handful of faces he recognised. Closest to them Lucifer and his consort spoke to a red-haired woman who probably lived in a gingerbread house. Crowley occupied one of the other tables, deep in conversation with one of his servants. Metatron stood half hidden in a crowd of foreigners, a gorgeous blonde omega at his side, while Castiel and Meg currently moved over the dance floor. And, unsurprisingly, there was Dean at the edge of the floor, shooting daggers with his eyes.

„I see him. Over there, between the speakers and the large man in blue.“

Sam followed his directions and chuckled.

„He looks like he's about to hit Meg over the head with his glass.“

As if on cue Jess caught their eyes and, grinning lightly, whispered something to Dean. A minute later they'd made their way across the room and sat down across the table. A servant brought them their dinner as if he'd waited for the opportunity.

„She's planning something.“ was the first thing Dean said after the servant had gone. „I know it.“

„What could she _possibly_ be planning?“ Jess asked, likely not for the first time that evening.

The answer,  _stealing my Cas away from me_ , hovered unspoken in the air.

„How the hell would I know? Could be anything.“

Dean flushed in response to his brother's disbelieving smirk and said nothing more. But he eyed Cas and Meg throughout dinner.

„I swear, he's impossible. Like a puppy that lost its mum.“

Sam made a sympathetic noise, which got him another glare from Dean.

Gadreel watched the brothers making faces at each other, acting not like fearsome clan leaders but bored three-year olds. People would throw them looks, some of amusement, some with silent judgment. Neither Winchester seemed to care.

That, if nothing else, made Gadreel finally relax. Things would turn out fine.

That thought comforted him for all of twenty minutes. It was rudely taken away by a young man, the one he'd seen in Metatron's company earlier, walking up to their table and bowing so deeply his nose nearly touched his kneecaps.

„Sam and Dean Winchester. And with new companions to boot. Rumours said you and Cas were joined at the hip, Dean-o.“

Dean merely glowered, leaving Sam to make small talk.

„It's nice to see you, too, Gabriel. You know Jess, and this …“  
„Oh, I know all about your friend, Sam. Everyone's been talking about you. Well done.“ Gabriel added as if being the centre of gossip was a personal achievement. 

„And what is everyone saying?“ Gadreel asked, clutching Sam's hand under the table.

„How about I tell you all about it while we dance?“

Cold sweat broke out on Gadreel's forehead but he managed to keep his smile from slipping. He knew something like this could happen. This was why Jess had given him dance lessons for the past month. 

Sam leaned over, undoubtedly to offer him a way out. Before he could say something Gadreel stood up.

„Gladly.“ he said, knowing that once he had an excuse, he'd never get up. He couldn't expect Sam to put up with him the entire evening. And perhaps listening to the gossip would give him a clue why Metatron seemed so interested in him. 

A tiny nod to Sam to reassure him and Gadreel allowed himself to be led to the dance floor. He'd assumed Gabriel to be an omega, being almost two heads shorter than Gadreel and having soft curves where alphas typically had sharp edges, but as they took up their position, Gabriel leading with a sure step, the scent of an alpha, and a dominant one at that, broke through the subtle perfume he wore.

They danced to a moderately slow tune, the perfect speed to allow talking without giving the situation a romantic touch. 

„I remember you promising me gossip.“ Gadreel said, swirling and being caught in Gabriel's arms. 

„And here I hoped my dashing appearance would be enough for you.“ Gabriel said grinning.

„Consider it the cherry on the cake.“

Surprised at how easy the flirtatious small-talk came Gadreel came to enjoy the moment. Gabriel was friendly and easy to talk to. A welcome change from everyone else, who tried to trip him up. 

„Now you're making me hungry. But alright. Here's some interesting trivia: Father's been looking for you for months before that auction. Did you know that?“

He hadn't. But Jess' lessons rung in his ears: Act like you know everything.

„That's hardly news.“ he said between beats. He barely had to concentrate on the steps anymore.

„You're right, you're right. You want news, how about this: You're my illegitimate half-brother.“

Gadreel came to a halt in the middle of the dance-floor, almost sending Gabriel flying.

„What?“ he asked, holding the tiny alpha up by his arms.

„Hah, so you didn't know _that_. Dance, honeybear, come on.“

Reluctantly Gadreel let himself be pulled into the rhythm again, Gabriel leading him through the steps with a new bout of confidence.

„It's just a rumour of course. No one's got any proof. But it makes sense, doesn't it?“

And in a weird, twisted way it did.

„You're Metatron's only son. Another heir to secure the bloodline would be worth a lot to him.“ Gadreel said. 

„Exactly. Dad never had a mate but who knows how many omegas he's slept with, especially before your sweetheart's dad began outlawing putting buns in unaffiliated ovens.“

The song changed but neither Gadreel nor Gabriel noticed beyond adjusting their steps to the new rhythm. Gabriel's theory did make sense, almost too much so.

„I don't know, Gabriel. Seems a bit far-fetched. The lost son, suddenly found at a random auction, after almost thirty years of nothing? And my mother would have mentioned it.“

„But would she? It must be heartbreaking. Sleeping with an alpha, only to be discarded the next day. Carrying the child of a man she never really knew. I don't know about you, but that's not something I would have told my kids.“

Still Gadreel was not convinced. It was something he'd need to tell Sam and perhaps he could glean something off that theory that Gadreel had missed due to being inexperienced. 

„You don't believe me.“ Gabriel said.

„No, it's just …“

„No, no, I understand. You're too sharp to be impressed by idle gossip. I'd say it runs in the family, but let's be honest, you're probably right. Unless …“

„Unless what?“

Suddenly Gabriel looked sheepish. He blushed and avoided Gadreel's eyes, trailing behind the rhythm of the music and hurrying to catch up.

„Nothing.“

„Unless _what_ , Gabriel?“

„Forget it, it's not important.“

„If it's not important, you can tell me.“

Gabriel huffed and and rolled his eyes with a melodramatic flair.

„Fine. I don't know if it proves you're family or not, but I saw Dad brooding over some old letters lately. May not even have something to do with you.“

But even if it didn't, getting a look at Metatron's motives would undoubtedly be useful to Sam. This was a chance to prove his worth. Gabriel seemed willing to share what he knew. Perhaps the idea of having a brother struck something in him, perhaps he knew more than he let on. In any case, Gadreel would be daft to let this opportunity slip.

„Can you show me these letters?“

„I really shouldn't …“  
Gadreel watched Gabriel closely, noticed the curl of his lips, the way he deliberately avoided eye contact.

„But you want to.“ he concluded, earning a mischievous grin.

„Yeah. You got me. Come on, it's best we go now, while everyone's busy eating cheeses on sticks.“

They made their way off the dance floor, pushing past the other guests.

„I should tell Sam-“

„No time.“ Gabriel interrupted. „If Dad catches us, I'm toast. And you're toast, too. We have to hurry.“

 

Gabriel led him through a side door and into a hallway. Music and conversation turned muffled, providing a steady hum as Gadreel and Gabriel moved forward. 

Compared to the brightly lit ballroom this part of the mansion looked downright depressing. Barely any lights burned and only the lamps in the garden illuminated their way through the windows. They rushed past rows of doors, one looking like the other, around corners and upstairs, down another hallway and downstairs again. He lost any sense of direction. This building was like a mirror maze.

After what seemed like an eternity Gabriel stopped in front of another door. He looked around nervously before opening up and letting them in. 

It was some kind of office, Gadreel saw that much in the half-dark. The silhouette of a desk stood just in front of him, and something that looked like bookcases lined the wall to his right.

„Gadreel?“

„Hm?“

„I'm really, really sorry.“

Every alarm bell in his head rang at once. He turned around just as the room was flooded with light. Blinking Gadreel barely made out Gabriel standing in the doorway. And behind him …

„Now look who's here. How nice of you to drop by.“  
  
Metatron.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chase, some smut and more self-esteem issues. These are going to be recurring themes.

 

 

Gadreel backed away, bumping against the desk. He considered running but Metatron and his son – and of course he wasn't trustworthy how damnable asinine of him to assume otherwise – blocked the only way out. Not to mention that a corset wasn't exactly sports wear.

„What do you want? Kidnap me?“ he asked to give himself time to think.

„Why does everyone insist on making me the bad guy?“ Metatron said, acting for all the world as if he was deeply hurt. „I'm your father, I'm on your side here.“

„No, you're not.“

The windows were made from security glass and the room frustratingly lacked a helpful display of weapons. 

„I should have known you wouldn't believe me. Your mother always was a skeptic, too. Lovely woman.“

Perhaps the letter opener. It lay partially obscured by some documents, only the tip glinting like a promise.

„You didn't know my mother.“ He said, inching towards the letter opener without alerting Metatron. Gabriel hadn't said anything since his apology. If he didn't know any better Gadreel would have said he regretted being part of this. 

„Better than you, my boy. How old were you when she died? Nine? Ten? Not that it's important. All that matters is that you're finally here. Don't worry about Sam too much. He'll forget about you in no time.“

His time ran out. Gadreel dove for the letter opener just as Metatron stepped forward. Paper flew, pencils clattered to the ground as Gadreel dodged his attempt to catch him. He rammed the letter opener somewhere in Metatron's general direction. He hit a resistance that, by the man's shout, had pain nerves. Without looking back to see what he'd hit he made for the door, shoving Gabriel out of the way and picking a direction at random. Metatron called for his servants and Gadreel broke into a run, trying to orient himself by the scenery outside. Unfortunately sometime between entering the office and leaving it, the lights outside had been dimmed, giving him nothing more than vague black shapes to look at. The sound of multiple feet spurred him to run faster. He couldn't keep this speed up for long. Already he breathed hard, black dots dancing in front of his eyes. Damn himself for choosing a corset. He reached a hallway that looked remotely familiar, which could be good news but was, considering his luck, probably an indication that he ran in circles.

One of the servants in pursuit reached out to him, fingers tugging at his collar. He drove his elbow back, hitting something that felt and sounded like a nose. He turned, thinking that he at least wouldn't make it easy for Metatron, when he was yanked to the side.

He yelped, losing his balance and almost crashing to the ground. Someone caught him and promptly dragged him along. 

„This way. Quick.“

It took Gadreel almost half a minute to recognise the omega who rescued him. It was Haniel, Lucifer's company. He followed the boy who seemed to know where he was going. Metatron's servants still followed them, bridging the distance far quicker than Gadreel liked. Haniel threw open what had looked like a window but was in fact a glass door to the garden. The garden opening to the road. They half ran, half stumbled over the wet grass, almost crashing into each other. They only stopped when they reached the sidewalk, ignoring the looks from the other guests who'd gone out to catch fresh air. Gadreel turned around. Metatron's servants were nowhere to be seen.

He bent over, bracing his hands on his legs as he gasped for air. He had no idea what fate he'd just escaped from but he doubted it was a pleasant one. 

„Thank you.“ he said, lungs stinging with every intake of cold air. Haniel waved him off.

„I have to return to my alpha. You should go back to yours. And, if I might make a suggestion, do not go with random strangers again.“

Gadreel wanted to laugh but lacked the air to do so. Instead he gave Haniel the thumbs up and watched the omega walk away in search of his alpha.

He didn't have time to follow his example. He'd barely brought his oxygen levels to a non-lethal degree when he was scooped up and squeezed like a stuffed toy.

„Gadreel! Where the hell have you been? I was worried sick.“ 

„I'm fine.“ Gadreel squeezed out, batting at Sam's arms to let him go. As much as Sam's concern flattered him the idea of not passing out appealed to him more. Sam put him down, grabbing his shoulders instead and making them look at each other.

„Are you sure? What happened? You look like someone tried to kill you.“

„Sam, calm down.“ Gadreel said, willing his voice to be steady. Sam was worried enough without having to know how riled up he really was. „Metatron tried to kidnap me, I think, but I got away.“

It was unexpectedly arousing to see Sam's eyes darken at the mention of Metatron's name. 

„The bastard. I never thought he'd go that far. Come on, let's get you home. Can you walk?“

 

Sam refused to leave Gadreel out of his sight until they were safely on their way home, Dean and Jess in the car with them and listening as Gadreel repeated his story.

Now that the adrenaline wore off he couldn't keep his voice from shaking anymore. Not just his voice, either. His whole body trembled like aspen leaves, unimpressed by Gadreel's attempts to keep it down. He fisted his hands in his trousers so hard his knuckles turned white.

„Gabriel, that little … . I always thought he and his father didn't get along.“ Jess said, coming as close to a curse as she likely ever would.

„Well, now we know we can't trust either of them.“ Sam said, glaring at everything in general and nothing in particular. „And you.“ he said turning to Gadreel who shrunk into himself.

„I'm sorry, Sam, I didn't mean to worry you, I just wanted to be useful. I know I messed u-“

„Stop talking and listen to me.“

Gadreel closed his mouth and cast his eyes downward, waiting for Sam to berate him. In hindsight the trap couldn't have been more obvious. Only someone like him would have fallen for it and followed Gabriel, Metatron's  _son_ , anywhere. 

„You never, _ever_ , go somewhere without telling me again, understand?“

Gadreel nodded, eyes stinging. All he'd wanted was to make Sam proud and managed to achieve the exact opposite.

„Good. God, I was so worried. I let you out of my eyes for one minute and you're gone. I was afraid you ran away because you got sick of me. Are you _sure_ you're not hurt?“

Gadreel nodded, finding it harder and harder to keep himself from breaking down. His mind provided vivid images of what Metatron could have done to him had Haniel not found him in time. And Sam would have gone home convinced Gadreel had left him on his own. 

„Sam … I'm sorry.“

His voice shook so badly he doubted Sam understood one word. But he hugged Gadreel tight nonetheless, rocking him to and fro.

„Shh, it's okay. It's okay, Gadreel. You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you.“ he said softly.

Dean's voice came from somewhere to his side.

„We'll find out what Metatron wants and put a stop to this. I'll have Dorothy patrol the house and we already have someone standing guard outside.“

„Good idea. But maybe, just to be safe, Gadreel should spend the night in my room?“ Sam offered and even Gadreel in his exhaustion noticed he tried and failed to sound nonchalant.

He didn't answer verbally, couldn't at this point, but he nodded and gripped Sam's shirt tighter. 

 

By the time they arrived back home and Dean and Jess had gone to bed or, in Dean's case work on security, Gadreel had calmed down to a manageable degree. The fact that Sam refused to let go of his hand helped with that. 

He only let go after he'd closed – and locked – the bedroom door behind them, the curtains closed and the room suffused with warm light. 

Gadreel had almost forgotten about the corset until he took off his jacket and shirt and heard Sam's sharp intake of breath. 

He turned to see Sam staring intently at the ceiling.

„Do you like it?“ he asked, making sure to sway his hips a little as he walked over to a chair to set his clothes down.

„I … you, you look, uh, I mean …“ Sam stammered. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, collecting himself. „What I mean is, we should probably go to bed. You've been through enough for today.“

But Gadreel had no intention of letting Sam off the hook that easily. Escaping an attempted kidnapping left him feeling brave. And perhaps a little bit frisky.

„Are you sure? I could use to wind down a bit.“

He closed the distance between them and took Sam's hands in his, placing them on his waist. Sam groaned softly under his breath, gliding over the curve of Gadreel's waist without conscious thought.

„Sam …“ he whispered. „ _Please_.“

He hadn't closed his mouth when Sam picked him up, and threw him against the wall, one hand on his ass, the other in the nape of his neck, tugging at his hair and pulling him in for a kiss. 

It was teeth more than tongue and tongue more than lips, every kiss edged with stabs of pain. He could barely breathe as it was and Sam pushing against him made it all the harder and thus all the better. He slung his legs around Sam's waist, drawing him closer and rutting against him. All the tension fell off him like clothes made of lead. 

„Sam …. Sam …“

Sam bit and sucked at his neck, hard cock pressing into Gadreel's stomach. 

„You need my cock to calm down, little bird?“

Somehow Sam had managed to rid him off his pants without Gadreel noticing. He fumbled with Sam's belt and yanked it open. 

„Yes, yes … need you.“

Sam's pants pooled at his legs, followed closely by his briefs. Gadreel gave Sam's cock a firm tug, relishing in the sounds it drew out of him. Spurred on he stroked him faster, pressing the tiniest bit into the swell of Sam's knot. Like the first time Sam pushed two fingers into his cunt to prepare him. This time however Gadreel had little patience for that.

„Don't. Just fuck me.“

„What do you say if you want something?“ Sam demanded. He pushed Gadreel harder against the wall, robbing him of what little air he had.

„Please … please.“ Gadreel wheezed even as he clenched around Sam's fingers, needing something bigger. Sam held him open with both fingers and slammed into him, giving him no time to adjust.

Gadreel's cries only had him fucking into him harder and faster, his thrusts verging on painful. 

„That what you want, little bird? Need me to fuck you hard?“  
„Sam … ah, please, more.“

His cock bounced between them, throbbing in arousal. 

„Go on, then. Touch yourself.“

„Sam, no … I can't.“ he begged, embarrassed at the thought of touching himself in front of Sam.

„You can. I'm fucking you, little bird, you're practically crying for my cock. You can touch yourself.“

Mortified beyond measure but too far gone to resist any longer, Gadreel wrapped his own hand around his cock, jerking himself in time with Sam's thrusts. 

„That's it. Look at you, blushing like a virgin. One of these days I'll have you play with yourself and just watch. Make you ride your own fingers, put a cockring on you and drag it out for hours. You'll be so desperate, you'll do anything just to get off. Won't you, little bird?“

„Sam!“ Gadreel mewled and cried out as Sam found the lace of his corset and _pulled_. The pressure became too much and still Sam drew the strings tighter.

„It's too much, Sam, please, it's too much, 'm gonna …“  
With a last tug on the corset he came, spurting into his own hand. Sam groaned and pulled out before his knot could swell, coming instead all over the corset, and rubbing himself on the brocade.

Gadreel buried his head between Sam's neck and shoulder, taking a grateful breath when Sam loosened the strings and pulled the corset off. The lack of pressure against his ribs and waist felt strange after being there for so long. It was worth it though as Sam covered his now naked stomach with another load of cum, hot against his skin. Sam set them both down on the ground, leaning against the wall, Gadreel in his lap. 

Sam kissed him, gentle and without tongue. Just lazy pecks against his lips, swallowing the soft noises they made in their afterglow. One of his hand found Gadreel's, still covered in his own come and brought it up between their mouths. Holding his gaze, Sam lapped at his fingers, licking them clean one after the other. Gadreel moaned, unable to tear his eyes away, and shuddered as Sam sucked on his thumb, tongue swirling over the tip. 

„Your turn.“ he murmured as he let go of Gadreel's hand. He dragged his fingers across his stomach, covering them in his come and held them up for Gadreel to lick clean. He did so without thinking, the taste not as bad as he thought it would be. Sam fed him his cum one fingertip after the other, kissing him in between. 

Even so, they were still sticky, sweat drying on their skin. 

„Bath?“ Sam offered, voice as tired as Gadreel felt. He attributed his response to the exhaustion.

„Bubbles?“

Sam's shoulders shook with silent laughter.

„Yeah, okay. Bubbles.“ he said, helping Gadreel to his feet.

 

The hot water drove away what tension the sex hadn't. He physically felt his muscles loosen, aided by Sam dragging a sponge over his skin while they listened to the bubbles popping.

„Are you happy here?“ Sam murmured against his hair, his first coherent sentence in a while. Gadreel turned around a bit from where he was seated against Sam's chest, trying to read Sam's face. Either because they were both tired or deliberately, Sam's mimic betrayed nothing.

„Why are you asking?“

„Because I haven't before. When I couldn't find you I thought you'd ran away and I wouldn't even blame you. Being made consort, caught up in all this political bullshit. And now Metatron trying to kidnap you or whatever it was he tried to do. It's hardly the stuff of dreams, is all I'm saying.“

Gadreel shook his head and huffed.

„You're leaving out the parts where I get to eat as much as I want, sleep in a warm bed and wear clothes that are worth more than I am. Being claimed not once but twice by a handsome alpha doesn't hurt either. Even if he has horrible taste.“

Sam smiled and peppered his neck with feather light kisses, watching Gadreel squirm.

„You're worth far more than a couple of fancy suits. And what's so bad about my taste, huh?“

Water swapped over the the bathtub as Sam tickled his sides, laughing when Gadreel tried to swat his hands away.

„Come on. You chose me when omegas like Jess walk around the house all day. If I didn't know any better I'd say there's something wrong with your eyesight.“

Sam stilled.

„You don't really think that.“

„What's wrong?“ Gadreel asked and made a small noise when he understood. „Sam, I'm not fishing for compliments. I'm too grateful for that. You're going out of your way to make me feel wanted. Even that first time you let me spend the night when you could have sent me away just as easily. I know I'm not exactly pretty, which is why I appreciate you doing this even more. It's enough now, though. I don't want you to force yourself to sleep with me when there's better options -“

„Gadreel.“ Sam said in a voice not unlike the one he used when talking about Metatron. „If you don't stop talking right now, I'm going to drown you.“

„Sam, it's -“

„Stop. Talking.“

Gadreel closed his mouth, staring at the bubbles as he tried to figure out what he'd done wrong. He only wanted Sam to know about his gratitude. Thinking about what could have happened if the brothers hadn't bid on him made him all the more grateful for Sam's gentleness. Then he remembered their talk with Becky.

_He doesn't like being thanked_ . Gadreel thought, chastising himself for forgetting that. For whatever reason Sam couldn't deal with people admiring him. And now he'd angered him, judging by the way Sam controlled his breathing as if to suppress the urge to hold his head under water after all.

He sat still, waiting for Sam to calm down, thinking about how best to apologise. Eventually Sam spoke.

„What in the way I treated you made you think I don't want you?“

„Sam, you don't need to-“  
Sam's fingers dug into his hip, half to punish him, half to keep himself grounded.

„Answer my fucking question, Gadreel.“

„N-nothing.“ Gadreel said quickly. „Nothing. You treated me well, like I -“

„Nothing. Then where, for God's sake, did you get the mind-bendingly stupid idea I _forced myself_ to sleep with you?“

„Sam … please, don't say things like that.“ Gadreel begged, feeling entirely too wrung out to deal with white lies now. „It's okay, I know I can't compare to other omegas. Someone else would never have gone with Gabriel, I know that. I'm stupid and mess things up and usually people don't care or they just bring me back to the auction house, but you actually worried about me and that's more than I could ever have asked for.“

Sam sighed and pressed his forehead against the back of Gadreel's head, all the fight gone out of him. 

„Where were you when God doled out the self-esteem, huh?“ he said, sounding more resigned than ever before. 

Gadreel, not knowing what to say anymore, just shrugged. The bubbles had disappeared completely, giving him nothing to focus on but Sam's breath against his neck and his hands on his waist. 

„We're going to have a long talk about all your good qualities.“ Sam said and tugged the plug open with his toes. Helping Gadreel out of the tub he continued. „And I'm going to tell you how much I enjoy looking at you, kissing you and talking to you.“ He wrapped him in a towel and rubbed him dry. „There's gonna be at least fifteen minutes where you listen to me tell you in great detail just how much I love fucking you and the many, many ways I plan to do just that in the future. And then.“ he said on their way to bed, Gadreel too numb to do anything but be herded along. „I'm going to make you stand in front of a mirror and make you _look_ at yourself until you admit you're gorgeous.“

He pulled the blankets over them both, Gadreel's head on his chest and his arms around his waist. 

„It's going to be the longest conversation you'll ever have and you'll be going out there feeling like fucking Narcissus. Because I don't want to hear you degrade yourself ever again. You hear me?“

„Yes.“

„Yes, what?“

„Yes, I hear you and you won't hear me degrade myself ever again.“

Sam, apparently satisfied, stroked his hair.

„Good enough for now. Try and catch some sleep now, alright?“

Gadreel, teetering the edge of wakefulness for some time now, didn't need to be told twice. 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there's humorous physical violence and less humorous messes to be cleaned up

Gadreel spent the morning getting beat up.

Technically, he supposed, he 'sparred'. His hands were taped and rules established. The rules didn't say Dorothy couldn't kick his ass six ways from sunday. Which she did.

He doubled over and groaned as Dorothy introduced her shin to his liver, a meeting both destined and painful.

„Get up, omega.“ She ordered. „Get up and use that weight of yours for something useful.“

He tried, by God he did. But Dorothy, a head shorter than he was and about as elusive as the last spaghetti in the bowl, dodged every single one of his attacks, hopping in and out of his reach.

„Go easy on him, Dor. I don't think Sam would like you breaking his pet.“

Jo called over from his seat. The entire taskforce had paused their training to witness Gadreel's humiliation. He took an experimental swing at Dorothy, who by the time his fist reached his target, already stood at the other side of the ring, kicking his legs out from under him and sending him to the ground.

„Sam will like it even less if his pet gets nabbed away by Metatron's men.“ Dorothy said.

She took some small measure of mercy on Gadreel and helped him to his feet. Only to throw him over her shoulder onto the ground. At least, he thought as he stared up at the ceiling questioning his life choices, she varied the ways in which she beat him. He'd landed on his ass five times, his sides seven and on his back now for the third time. But her comment brought back his determination. He couldn't rely on random people saving his ass all the time. Next time Metatron tried something, he'd be ready.

He got up under cheers from the taskforce.

„You got the same stamina in bed, Gad?“ Benny asked and laughed as Gadreel flipped him off.

Dorothy dove in for another attack and instead of dodging it, like he failed to do before, he caught her blow. While she tried to regain her momentum he stepped forward, crowding her into the corner of the ring. He had to get her into a position where she couldn't use her superior agility.

Dorothy later told him that his idea had been good. And if he faced anyone but, well, Dorothy, it might even have succeeded. As it was she dodged his attack at the last second. He stumbled forward into the empty space where Dorothy had stood and had only time to think 'oh shit' before he was thrown to the ground again, this time on his stomach. Dorothy knelt over him and held his arms down.

„You need to work on your balance.“ she said.

„I have to work on my pain threshold.“ Gadreel mumbled into the mattress. Not trusting Dorothy's offered hand he got up himself, gratefully accepting a water bottle from Charlie.

„Enough for today?“ she asked, honest sympathy in her voice.

„Yes. Any more and you can use my innards as soup.“

Thankfully Dorothy let him off the hook, expecting him back the next day.

While the others resumed their training, Cole and he headed for the showers. It was still strange to make small talk with an alpha. No one in the clan cared for class differences and Gadreel tried his best to follow that example.

„Does she beat everyone up on their first day or did I do something to offend her?“ he asked, rubbing his side where she'd kicked him. For only barely scratching the 5'2'' mark Dorothy had way too much power under her skin.

„I don't know anyone who hasn't received an asskicking from her.“, Cole said. „Most have the common sense to stay on the ground after the third time, though.“

„It's not like I've better things to do.“

„Sam not planning on ravishing you today then?“

Gadreel blushed, remembering Sam's promise to 'work' on his self-confidence. When he woke that morning however, Sam'd already been gone, with a note explaining that duty called and Gadreel should spend the day however he liked.

„No. I thought I'd make myself useful in the library. Becky's hanging a bit behind in her work. Any chance you want to join us?“

„Nah, man. I'll just grab some lunch and head back to the gym. You have fun, though.“

They parted ways and Gadreel, feeling more like a human and less like a sentient punching bag after his shower, made his way to the library.

 

Becky welcomed both the help and the distraction. She wasn't cut out for hours on end brooding over dusty old tomes on law and clan history and had only agreed to it because she was promised a replacement soon. It spoke for her that she never blamed Gadreel, even though he was, indirectly, responsible for her continued occupation.

„What's with the ledgers over there?“ Gadreel asked as they indexed some of the new acquisitions. On a table in the corner a heap of ledgers and notebooks gathered dust. The rest of the library was immaculate, making the place all the more distinct.

„That's where Kevin …“ Becky started, sadness replacing her fatigue. „Where Kevin died.“

Gadreel stopped short, looking at the space with new eyes. Now that he knew what to look for, he saw a brighter spot on the ground in front of the table. The carpet had been attacked with strong detergents.

„He died _here_? I thought … who found him?“

„I did.“

Becky and Gadreel turned around. Dean Winchester stood in the doorway, eyes resting on the faded spot on the carpet.

„Cas wants to talk to you Becky. Something about his library back home, I don't know.“, Dean said, face darkening. „At least he's working and not with that witch of a -“  
„I'll go see him right away.“ Becky said cheerfully, effectively preventing Dean from falling into an hour long rant about Meg and all her perceived shortcomings. Gadreel watched Dean quietly make his way towards the table. He wiped some of the dust away, frowning at it.

„They could have at least dusted over it with a cloth or something.“ he said to himself. Dean appeared to have forgotten about him. Prior to Kevin's death almost two months ago the library had been busy, people using it to meet and catch up. These days only Becky spend her days here.

„Wanna hear the story?“ Dean asked. Usually he laced his sentences with subtones, making it easy to read his mood. There was nothing subtle about the man. _This_ question was spoken without a hint of emotion.

„Sure.“ Gadreel said, trying to sound casual.

„It feels like a year ago, you know? But it's been not even two months. One day he's there, cracking jokes, eating pizza with us. The next there's a stain in the carpet that won't go away. He was working…

 

… on Metatron's finances, scouring the logbooks for discrepancies and hints at illegal activity. His money had to come from somewhere but it seemed that where others saved and invested, Metatron simply reached into his pockets. His money went through dozens of accounts, forwarded by a score of people, each adding something to it. But from where it came originally no one knew. The other lawyers had long since given up but Kevin remained persistent. He went through book after book, talked to everyone who had so much as looked at Metatron in the last seventeen years since his clan founding. No one thought anything would come of it. And even if he found something, even if Metatron could be proven to be a crook, the worst that would happen was that he'd go to a white collar prison for a few years. The clan would go to Gabriel and Metatron would be free to extend his influence even further. There was little to gain and thus, everyone thought, little to lose.

It was why no one bothered with security. Cameras recorded the grounds but no one monitored live. It was sheer coincidence that one night Sam and Dean worked late and heard, on their way to bed, a commotion from the library. By the time they arrived the assassin had already fled, leaving behind nothing but a broken window and a hole in Kevin's chest …

 

„... He was still alive when we found him. Couldn't breathe, couldn't speak but he stared right at me for eight fucking minutes. Died seconds before the EMT's arrived. They barged in, defibrillators, adrenaline, everything ready but they could do nothing but bag him up. No clues, no witnesses. Even if Kevin's work wasn't proof enough of who would want him dead, only that bastard Metatron could afford to send an assassin that good.“

 

Dean had gripped some of the papers while he spoke and now crumpled them in a fist.

„Metatron will pay for this if it's the last thing I do.“ he swore. He stared down at his hand and the sight of having disturbed Kevin's workspace brought him back into the real world.

„No one has gone through his notes? What if he found something?“ Gadreel asked. There were a million things he should say – express his condolences, promise that he would do everything to help – but he had a feeling Dean wanted to hear none of them.

„None of the others want to make themselves targets. And Sam won't even go near the stuff.“

„Do you mind if I …? I mean, Metatron's already obsessed with me, so …“

„Knock yourself out.“ Dean said with a shrug. The offer was moot anyway. Gadreel was no lawyer, not even an accountant. There was nothing he knew that Kevin hadn't. But he felt he had to make the effort anyway.

 

 

Hoping to gain an overview over the subject Gadreel started with Kevin's notebook. It was filled with row after row of equations, discarded theories, phone numbers and – occasionally – a doodle of a Star Wars character. The pages were dog eared, hints at a private life scrawled on the edges.

_Dinner with Aaron 4.4_

and

~~_Pick up laundry_ ~~

and under that

_Thank Charlie for picking up laundry_

It was a dead man's life in the margins of a notebook.

He understood why no one wanted to read it. Everyone in the clan seemed to have loved Kevin. This book meant reliving the memories of a friend who could not be saved. Gadreel hadn't known him and even his heart clenched at reading the reminders Kevin had made for himself.   
_Opera with Dor 15.12!!_  
Between two equations, one of the last entries before his death in October.   
He wondered if some of Dorothy's distanced manner stemmed from the fact that there hung a dress in her closet that would never be worn.

Would she curl up in her room, accusing Kevin of standing her up? Cursing his name until her throat hurt and she could no longer look at two tickets that would never be redeemed. Or would she go, sitting in the plush chair with an empty space next to her where a friend should have been?

 

Gadreel ran his thumb over the page. There was a Kevin-shaped hole in the clan that no one could fill. And still they'd welcomed him as if his presence didn't mean that another would not return.

He tore his eyes away from the page and continued to delve into Kevin's work. He'd been close to something. His writing grew more hasty, turning barely legible towards the last pages. Annotations to pages in other books, cross references to the ledgers on the table covered the paper until, on the last page, there was only two lines of text, in big letters and underlined three times.

It was an address. And Gadreel recognised it.

 

 

„I grew up there.“

Sam looked up as if to check if Gadreel was joking.

„You're sure?“ he asked. Gadreel stared at him.

„I think I know where I spent the first sixteen years of my life.“ he deadpanned. Sam huffed and smiled.  
„Yeah, of course. Sorry. But what does the address to your childhood home have to do with Metatron's finances?“

Gadreel shrugged and sat down in the wicker chair next to Sam. It had begun snowing in the last few hours, the conservatory warm and green as always but now with fern frost decorating the windows. He could spend hours watching the flurry of snow, especially with Sam close by his side.

„I would like to find out. It's a likely assumption Metatron's connection to the place is tied to why he has an interest in me. Kevin seemed to think it was important, so maybe I can find something there.“

„No.“ Sam said, frowning. „I'll send someone over, but I don't want you get yourself in danger.“

„Someone else would be liable to miss something on account of being unfamiliar with the place. I will be fine.“

It was obvious Sam didn't like the idea one bit. Barely 24 hours had passed since Metatron's kidnapping attempt and he didn't fancy the idea of risking Gadreel's life again so soon.

But in the end he bowed to the better argument.

„Fine. But you'll take one of Dean's people with you and my Special Children will follow you. If anyone tries anything they'll be able to protect you.“

Gadreel had never met Sam's 'Special Children' before but understood that was part of their work. They weren't meant to be seen, not like Dean's taskforce who relied on brawn rather than stealth to get the job done.

„I'll ask Charlie.“ he agreed and made to stand up to do just that when Sam held him back. His puzzlement was swallowed by Sam's lips, pressing gently against his. For the first time outside his bedroom. He gripped Sam's collar, knees buckling until Sam steadied him, hands firm on his hips.

„You did well.“ Sam said against his mouth as they parted.

„I … I didn't do anything.“

„That's not true. None of us could go through Kevin's work. I knew he was close to something but still I … what I'm meaning to say is, you took a huge weight off my chest.“

Gadreel blushed, the impact of Sam's words so much heavier with the way he looked into his eyes. As if he wanted to pin him to the wall and not let go until he conveyed his gratitude.

„It's noth-“

„No.“ Sam interrupted gently but firmly. „When someone thanks you, you say 'you're welcome'. Gadreel, thank you for working through Kevin's things.“

A denial lay on the tip of his tongue, pushed there by habit and the conviction that there was nothing to be grateful for. He lowered his head and stared at the buttons of Sam's shirt when he said: „You're welcome.“

Sam rewarded him with another kiss and let him go to find Charlie.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I had this mostly ready for the last few days, but I got a little bout of what I'm guessing is a flu that didn't put in the effort. Also, I detailed the story some more and, uh, there's a plot point that made me cry for about an hour straight. And I really, really, really, don't wanna write that scene because its horrible and Gadreel doesn't deserve what I'm going to do to him. So that's the other reason why this chapter took a bit longer. Expect the next chapter tonight or tomorrow :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Which involves a trip into a sex toy shop, one into the past and one into an awkward situation. Not necessarily in that order.

Perhaps it was the prospect of returning to his childhood home, but for the first time Gadreel dreamed of his family.

He was back in the tiny apartment over the tannery, the roof fixed with corrugated iron that flew away with every hard breeze. The collection of blankets that weren't all blankets, but rather everything large and soft Gadreel could get his hands on. From a hotel he'd worked at he'd taken bathrobes and large towels. An old lady Abner mowed the lawn for had given them a giant basket full of fabric pieces that the three of them stitched together into a blanket over months and whenever they could get string. In his dream they sat around that blanket spread over their knees, each sibling at another end. They joked and laughed and nibbled at the sweets Gadreel had made. Butter spread so thin it was nothing more than a sheen of fat and sugar on top. Their hands shook with the cold but their legs were warm and their bellies full. And they were together. His last job had kept him away from home during the day, allowing him to see his siblings only after they'd gone to sleep. He'd lost that job, but another would come, in time.

 

Gadreel woke with a start. Pale moonlight filtered through a break in the curtains and reflected on the silk bedding. He sat up, the blanket falling off his shoulders like sheets of water and looked around. As a child they kept what little clothes they owned in a box together with the rest of their meager possessions. Now his closet touched the ceiling and was filled to the brim with custom-made outfits.

There had been no carpets to warm his feet on the way to the bathroom. No curtains to shut out even the last beam of moonlight. And they'd shared a bathroom with twelve other tenants, making for long lines in the morning and a constantly bad smell.

Now the sink didn't hang crooked from the wall and it wasn't cracked yellowish porcelain but marble and gold faucets. The water wasn't brown and neither did it taste like lead and copper. He splashed some of it into his face to clear his head.

 

Another job had never come. For months they pulled through with the pocket money Abner made and what they could steal or beg. Gadreel had searched for jobs everywhere, would have taken any and all opportunities. None had come until finally he'd cracked down and sold himself to the auction house. The money for his freedom promised to spare Anna and Abner from doing the same. He'd sent a letter, explaining as best he could why he had to leave and why it would be best if they never saw each other again. For fifteen years he had not looked back.

At the time he thought he made the right choice. Times were different then. With a bit of luck and hard work Abner and Anna could have used the money to build a better life for themselves. It was enough to allow them an education, to give them a chance if nothing else. He believed he'd be the one who would have it worst.

But while he lived in a mansion with marble sinks and soft carpets, he had no idea what had become of Abner and Anna. For all he knew they still lived in that sad excuse for a flat, going hungry evey last week of the month. The thought hit him unexpected. What right had he enjoying this life when his little siblings could be out there, cold and starving. And what would he do if they did still live in that flat? If they met and Anna asked him to come home or Abner demanded he'd take them with him. He'd be forced to turn his back on his siblings, return to a life of luxury knowing there was nothing he could do for them. The money he spent was not his own, the place he lived in the property of another man. He had nothing to give away but that wouldn't matter when he had to look his siblings in the eye and tell them they were out of luck.

He found he couldn't return to bed and sleep anymore.

Instead he slipped outside into the dark hallway. The lack of activity cast an eery silence over the mansion. Gadreel was used to seeing people frequenting the place, going from one place to another, occasionally stopping to talk. Now the place lay quiet, the memory of sound making the silence more distinct.

Briefly he wondered if he shouldn't go back to bed after all, and force himself to sleep instead of wandering the house like a restless spirit. But then something caught his attention. A crack of light emitting from one of the doors down the hall suggested someone else was awake.

The desire for company overruled any counter-arguments his mind came up with and possessed him to walk over.

The door stood ajar, and behind it, on the desk illuminated by the table lamp, Cas and Dean fucked.

Well, either that or they engaged in hands-free late-night furniture moving. Cas had Dean bent over the table, coaxing desperate whimpers out of the alpha and fucking him as if he was an omega in heat. Gadreel meant to walk away, already unconvinced he could ever look either of them in the eye again, but the sheer outlandish idea of an omega topping his alpha kept him rooted to the spot just long enough for Dean to notice him.

He threw his head back in bliss and opened his eyes for a split second. It was enough.

„What the-? Oh, fuck. Fuck. Cas, stop.“ he begged, scrambling to gain some purchase. „Pull out, pull out, Cas, now.“

„I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to …“ Gadreel said slowly backing away from the door. „I just saw light and, and … sorry, I'm really sorry, I'll just …“

And then he fled, face hot with embarrassment, the picture of Dean and Cas staring at him etched into his brain forever.

 

Neither Dean nor Cas showed for breakfast the next morning. Their absence was the centre of gossip which Gadreel kept away from as far as possible. He pretended to be too busy eating and thus failed to notice Sam until he touched his shoulder. He almost screamed.

„Morning. You're being jumpy. Slept bad?“

„Yes. No. Yes. Kind of.“ Gadreel said, staring at his toast.

„Well, you're not the only one. Dean refuses to leave his room and Cas looks like death warmed over. I bet they stayed up all night working again.“

„Yeah. Working.“ he mumbled. Then something came to his mind.

„Are you not supposed to be at a meeting?“

Sam smiled as if Gadreel had just figured out his masterplan.

„I called in sick. Meetings happen every week. This is likely the only chance I ever get at seeing your childhood home. I already talked to Charlie, she told us to have fun. She did that grin of her's, too, so I think we both know what she means by 'fun'. Not that I'm opposed to the idea.“

But Gadreel listened only with half an ear. He'd hoped to avoid this. Of course Sam had to know or at least suspect that he didn't come from a well-off background. But he'd rather not have Sam step into the part of his life that smelled of mites and asbestos.

But he kept quiet, smiled at Sam's excitement and kept his anxiety to himself. If Sam wanted to see the place where he'd grown up, that was his right.

 

His home hadn't changed much.

The same corrugated iron sheets slapping against the roof in the breeze. The same smell of urine and cabbage stuck to the faded wallpaper with its suspicious stains. Sam had talked the entire way here. Now he was quiet.

Gadreel didn't look at him when he led them up to the apartment. It was like stepping back into his past. This was where he belonged and it was a world away from Sam.

Even the old mattress lay in its place, deformed from years of three children sharing it. Only of his siblings presence remained no trace.

He felt guilty for being relieved. Seeing them here, still poor and lost, while he marched in wearing expensive clothes would have been unbearable.

Dust blew up as he stepped into the single room. Once there had been a stove, the ports hanging out of the wall, but it had already been gone when Gadreel lived here. From the looks of it no one'd occupied this place in a long time.

„You lived here?“

For the second time that day Gadreel jumped at Sam's voice. He'd almost forgotten he was there. He turned, expecting to see disgust in Sam's face. He likely had never had to face conditions like these before.

What he saw instead was a close-up of red plaid as Sam pulled him into a crushing hug.

„Sam?“ he asked, voice muffled.

Instead of a verbal answer he got a kiss, Sam's hand on the back of his head, his arm around his waist.

The wind rattled the roof.

The sound was no longer a shameful reminder of his past, but the backdrop to the warmth of Sam's body, the firmness of his grip. He tasted of acceptance and Gadreel wondered how he could ever have thought that Sam would think less of him.

„I wish I'd found you sooner.“ was the first thing Sam said after they parted.

„You've come just in time.“ Gadreel said, stroking up and down Sam's arms. His carress caused Sam to shiver and lean into his embrace some more. They kissed again, more urgent. Sam had maybe an inch on him but still he felt dwarved in the alpha's arms. He nuzzled at Sam's neck, breathed in his scent, peppered the skin with kisses.

„I have an idea, little bird …“ he whispered and the nickname had Gadreel instantly hard.

„ _Sam_.“

His husky laughter did nothing to calm his arousal in any way.

„What? You don't want to?“ he asked with mocked innocence. To emphasise his point he gave Gadreel's dick a squeeze through his pants. Gadreel groaned half horny half exasperated.

„The door can't be locked. Someone could walk in. Or hear us.“

„We'll just have to be quiet. No one will know anyone is even here. Come on, little bird …“ Sam coaxed, maneuvering them against the wall.

„Fine, God, you're insatiab- _ah, fuck.“_

Gadreel bit on his fist to keep from crying out. Sam'd dropped to his knees, pulled Gadreel's pants down and swallowed his cock whole. The wet heat engulfed him completely. Sam lapped at his cock, licking off every drop of pre-come. They said omegas tasted sweeter than alphas on account of not producing sperm. He wondered if Sam liked his taste.

He bobbed his head up and down, looking up at Gadreel from under his eyelashes. And the bastard had the gall to smirk, showing that he knew exactly what he did to Gadreel.

„Sam … oh … Please, more …“

He buried his hands in Sam's hair, and it took all his self-control not to pull at it and force his cock down Sam's throat.

His desperation made Sam laugh and the vibrations of it shot straight up Gadreel's spine and had his hips jerk. Sam kept him still, sucking him off faster while fondling his balls.

„'m gonna … I'm close … Sam.“ Gadreel managed, indicating that now was the best time to pull away. Only Sam didn't. He redoubled his effort, sucking so hard Gadreel felt he had to pass out. He looked down and the sight of Sam on his knees sent him over the edge. He came hard, moaning helplessly as he felt Sam swallow every drop.

Sam caught him before his legs could give out and held him close as he trembled through the aftershocks.

„That … you …“ he stuttered still not really believing what just happened. Alphas didn't go on their knees. They certainly never swallowed their omega's cum. But Sam had, so naturally and un-selfconsciously as if it was completely normal.   
„Liked that, did you?“ Sam asked entirely too smug.

„Don't ask stupid questions.“ Gadreel retaliated with a smile. A month ago he couldn't have imagined talking to an alpha like that. But Sam and the clan were different in so many ways.

They sat quietly for a few minutes to recover. Eventually however they got up.

There was, after all, a reason they'd come here.

 

Nothing in the apartment gave any clue on why Metatron would have an interest in this place.

„His finances made it look like he spend a lot of money finding this place.“ Gadreel said. „And he paid people to watch it for years. Eventually the money stopped flowing. But that was long before he found me. If he was looking for me, then why stop?“

„Maybe the neighbours know something.“ Sam suggested.

The only other tenant living in the building turned out to be an old blind woman who hadn't noticed anything.

„No one's been here in a while.“ she said. „Everyone got better jobs and moved out. It's those Winchester boys, I hear. They force people to pay the clanless folk money they can live off. The last one to leave was the boy next door. Put his sister through college, all on is own after their father left them. Or was it their brother? I can't quite remember. Well he lived here until six or seven years ago. Then came the men from that lawfirm or maybe they were police and he went with them. Never seen him since. Damn shame it is, too, he was such a nice boy.“

 

„You think your brother found a job, moved out?“ Sam asked on their way back. Gadreel, staring out of the window, shrugged.

„Maybe.“

But there was something wrong. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something about Anna and Abner's supposed better lives rubbed him the wrong way. He resolved to try and find his siblings, just to make sure they were safe.

He looked up as they stopped. They'd been driving for less than ten minutes, they couldn't be home already. Indeed they weren't. The driver had parked in front of a toy shop, the window displays showing various appliances and outfits.

„What …?“ he began as Sam pulled him out of the car.

A discreet door bell announced their coming and the clerk acknowledged them with a respectful nod. The inside was lighted with a warm glow, illuminating the racks while also providing some degree of privacy. Sam led him past the shelves stocked with toys and into the collar-section.

His confusion only rising Gadreel turned to Sam.

„You're mine.“ Sam said matter of factly. „And I want to make it official, if you'll allow me.“

A collar. Sam wanted to buy him a collar. Gadreel opened his mouth to speak but no sound would come out. The only thing he could do was stare at Sam who seemed so calm, so _sure_ of this decision. He tried again, this time with more success.

„But I'm not your mate. O- or anything special.“

„That's not true. You are special. You may not be my mate but I still want the world to know that you belong to me. Do you?“

What could he say to that, really, except: „Yes. Yes, of course.“

Sam broke into a smile that had no little semblance to a puppy first discovering sunshine. He took Gadreel's face in his hands and kissed him deeper than he ever had before. 

 

Picking out a collar proved to be an ambitious endeavour. Sam wouldn't settle for anything ready-made and called over the clerk to order a custom-made one. He also insisted on Gadreel giving his input.

„It's your collar. You're going to wear it, so it's only right that you help choose it.“

Stumbling, confused and occasionally appalled at the prices, he went through the different catalogues. Everything about the collar would be individual. From the design – Gadreel picked something simple, broad but without any adornments that would make it harder to wear with his day to day clothing – to the materials – Sam flipped through the first few pages that showed the cheapest materials and told Gadreel not to look at the numbers but pick something he liked. It ended up being soft black leather, probably from an extinct species, with silk lining. 

They mulled over the colours while the clerk got the necessary forms when they got company.

„Sam. Gadreel. What a pleasant surprise.“

Gadreel almost jumped into the display behind him. Lucifer stood behind him, hands clasped behind his back, wearing the same enigmatic smile that never seemed to leave his face. He was alone and looked as if he'd just come from a business meeting. 

„Hello, Lucifer.“ Sam said

„I'm happy to see you seem to have recovered from your illness. Too bad you couldn't make it to our meeting. You missed a great deal.“ Lucifer said, reminding Gadreel effective immediately that Sam had called in sick for him.

„I'm sure I can be brought up to date next time.“ Sam replied smoothly. He made no indication if he was fazed by Lucifer's remark. 

„I'm sure. Well, I should be going. Maybe we'll see each other at Crowley's ball in a fortnight? We didn't have a chance to dance last time, Gadreel.“

„Yes. I was too busy being kidnapped by Gabriel.“ Gadreel said, feeling that he had enough of dancing for a lifetime. Lucifer frowned at his blunt remark.

„I wouldn't judge him too harshly, if I were you. Gabriel is not his father's son. He has a great many qualities.“ Lucifer paused and then nodded, back to his usual unreadable self. „Have a good day.“

They watched him leave.

„What was that all about?“ Sam wondered as they returned to the catalogues. 

Gadreel shrugged.

„He seemed awfully defensive about Gabriel. You think maybe …?“  
„That they struck an alliance? Perhaps. Or it's just one of Lucifer's moods. He has those sometimes.“ Sam mused. „Anyway, don't think I'll let you off so easy. We're not going under 19 momme with that silk.“

Gadreel argued a bit on account of the higher prize but eventually gave in. If Sam wanted to pay an exorbitant amount of money for that collar it was his right. He tried not to think about the fact that Sam was willing to spend this much money on him of all people. Best he not break out in blushes and giggles in the middle of a shop.  


„Do you want the leather engraved or branded with something, sir?“ the clerk asked as he worked down the checklist. 

„You can do that?“ Gadreel asked.

„Sure. Whatever you want.“

He threw a look at Sam who gave him an encouraging nod. Of course, Sam would have approved of a platinum collar inlaid with diamonds as long as he liked it. 

„Um, I thought, maybe … 'Little Bird'? If that's okay …“

His cheeks warmed to a worrisome degree but the clerk only made a note and Sam squeezed his hand. 

It struck him that, up until now Gadreel had spent his days waiting for the other shoe to drop. Whatever slight of luck had brought him to Sam could not last long. But Sam stayed and had a collar made for him, wanted him to wear it for all the world to see. For the first time Gadreel found himself looking forward to the future instead of dreading it.

The feeling lasted just short of a week.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So first of this chapter was a bitch to write. There's some mild writer's block tapping me on the shoulder and I have to interrupt every single sentence to shoo it away. Anyway, I chose to end this chapter with a little cliffhanger, which I don't normally do since I loathe cliffhangers and the sadistic writers who torture me with them. But then again, writing is in the end about pain and the fun part is you both get to feel it and inflict it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sorry for the delay but that chapter ruined me. Utterly and completely.  
> ...  
> Hope you enjoy!

They were all gone.

Over the course of fifteen years every person Gadreel had so much as talked to had vanished mysteriously. The police never picked up a trace, never found bodies or possessions. It was as if they had just disappeared from the face of the earth. He went through missing person reports, checked hospitals, morgues and graveyards for any familiar names. Nothing.

Anna had disappeared nine years ago, Abner three.

Their mother had died long before Gadreel left for the auction house but no one had brought flowers to her grave in years. It was only a trite place overgrown with lichen next to all the other forgotten dead. As a boy he'd sworn he'd keep her grave in order, that he wouldn't let it succumb to nature like all the others.

Cole, who accompanied him that day on Sam's behest, quietly offered to hire someone to take care of it. Feeling there wasn't much he could do, Gadreel accepted with stones in his gut.

 

Sam tried to console him over dinner.   
„It doesn't mean something happened to them. No bodies were ever found. That's a good thing.“

„There's worse things than dying, Sam.“ Gadreel said with perhaps a bit more force than he should have.

„Is this about your mother's grave? You didn't have the freedom to care for it, it's not your …“

„It's not about her grave.“

„Then what …?“

Gadreel waved his hand.

„Just … can we just eat? Please?“

He knew Sam didn't like letting it go but he remained quiet through dinner. The silence was tense. Gadreel felt he should break it, apologise to Sam for making things awkward. But at the same time he wanted nothing more than go to bed and pull the blankets over his head.

He should have known Sam wouldn't let him off that easy.

„We still haven't found whoever's sneaking around the place at night.“ Sam said while guiding him gently but firmly towards his own bedroom. „And at this point that means they have access to our camera system and an insider. So, maybe it's best you sleep close to me. Just to make sure.“

„Sam, I'm not-“  
Gadreel interrupted himself. That was not what he was supposed to say. Sam treated him like an equal but that didn't make it true. He was still only a consort. Not his mate, not even his friend. He was a trophy, no matter how unique his circumstances. Sam's word was law.

„Of course.“ he said demurely and followed Sam into his bedroom.

With a start he realised this was the first time he undressed in front of Sam simply to go to sleep rather than as a preamble to sex. He felt Sam's eyes on him and suddenly grew self-conscious.

There was no reason to feel like this. Sam had seen him naked often enough. Nothing was different now and yet it was.

Gadreel fiddled with the buttons on his shirt, cast sideways glances at Sam who already stood in his briefs. There was no sense in stalling. He shucked off the shirt and almost cowered when he heard Sam's sharp intake of breath.

Of course he would find him ugly. Before hormones had clouded his mind. Lust had made Gadreel appear prettier in Sam's mind than he really was. Now Sam realised with what he'd been sleeping all this time.

He squeezed his eyes shut as Sam stepped close and lifted his chin up, unable to endure the disgust in his face.

„You're wearing it …“ Sam breathed, which was just about the last thing Gadreel expected. Cracking his eyes open, he found no disgust Sam's eyes.

The collar rested comfortably around his neck, hidden during the day by his clothes. He'd completely forgotten about it.

It enticed Sam to attack his neck and shoulders with kisses, framing the collar with his lips.

„Did you wear it the whole day?“

Gadreel nodded lightly.

„Ever since we picked it up from the shop two days ago.“ That elicited another groan from Sam.

„You'll be the death of me.“ he murmured against Gadreel's skin and pulled him to bed.

He fully expected Sam to ravish him and frowned when he merely wrapped his arms and legs around him in a decent impression of an octopus.

Sam's hands stroked his stomach, fingers tracing his stretchmarks as if they were a mark of beauty.

There was a lazy contentness to it but Gadreel found he couldn't enjoy it. The silence only served to remind him that his family was gone, perhaps in danger, and certainly not safe and well treated as he was.

It was too much of a coincidence for Metatron not to be behind this. For some reason he'd hunted Gadreel and his family for over fifteen years and succeeeded in capturing all but him. But he couldn't think of a reason. Neither he nor any of his relatives had ever done anything of impact. They'd worked odd jobs, drifted from place to place. Never had they done anything that would warrant a hunt of these proportions.

And if it weren't for Sam and Dean he'd be victim to the same. Due to sheer dumb luck he was still free and still he couldn't do anything to help. It was maddening.

„Gadreel. I can _hear_ you brood.“ Sam mumbled half asleep. He propped himself up on his elbow to look at him. „What's wrong?“

„It's nothing.“

„Don't give me that crap. You've been in a weird mood the whole day. Talk to me.“

With an order like that Gadreel could do nothing but acquiese.

„I feel so helpless, Sam. What if I never find them? What if my brother and sister are gone? I sold myself to give them a chance, but if I had been there maybe I could have protected them. We could have run, somewhere where Metatron couldn't find us. And even if I find them, what then?“ He hesitated, unsure of how much he should tell Sam. Looking up into his eyes he saw that Sam would accept nothing less than the whole truth. „How am I supposed to look them in the eye? When they have to live in poverty while I have … you.“

Sam spared him of meaningless platitudes. He touched his cheek and kissed his forehead.

„We'll figure something out when it comes to it. I won't leave you alone with this.“

And just like that the tension was gone. Sam had a knack for making Gadreel wonder why he'd ever been hesitant. It seemed there was nothing Sam couldn't make better with a few words and a kiss on the forehead. They drifted to sleep after that, petting and holding each other close.

 

 

Usually after they'd spent the night together Sam was gone by the time Gadreel woke. His work often demanded his attention from the earliest hours to late in the night.

When he found Sam sitting in suit and tie at the corner of the bed, he knew something was wrong.

„Good morning …?“ he ventured in an half-assed attempt to pretend everything was fine. Worry creased Sam's forehead. He'd never seen him like this.

„Good morning, Gadreel.“

Sam followed him with his eyes as he got up and dressed, dragging out every motion as long as he dared. Finally, after brushing his teeth for five minutes, aware of Sam's eyes on his back, he turned and faced him.

„What's wrong?“

For the first time Sam averted his gaze. Only briefly but the moment served to reinforce the sense of dread.

„It's best if you come with me.“

On their way to Sam's office they passed Becky and Aaron in the hallway. Both looked up as they saw them approach but quickly lowered their heads again when they saw who it was. Gadreel heard them whisper to each other as they rounded the corner but couldn't make out any specific words.

Something else demanded his attention. Shouting.

Sam quickened his step and broke into a run as they heard furniture breaking. Gadreel almost ran into him as Sam entered the office and came to an abrupt standstill.

„There's gotta be _something_ you can do!“ Dean shouted and slammed his fist on the table. Cas, sitting in the chair opposite him, flinched but didn't say anything. Dean cursed and turned towards the window, dragging his hand through his hair. The room looked as if a fight had taken place in it. Remnants of a chair lay on the ground in front of the bookshelves, books and papers strewn across the ground. The curtains and the cornice had been pulled down into a heap. And in the middle of it all Dean looked ready to wreck the entire house. 

Sam made Gadreel sit in the only other intact chair and took to standing close to his brother. 

„Wh-what's happened?“ Gadreel asked noting that again, no one would look at him. Dean only cursed under his breath and thus it fell to Castiel to explain the situation. 

„Metatron has contacted us.“ he said and cleared his throat. „He has offered us a deal. Usually we would just discard it, but in this case we cannot do so easily. There have been certain new factors that we have to take into consideration, especially in relation to the relative size of the clan's bloodline, which we cannot disregard and-“

„For God's sake, Cas, get to the point.“ Dean interrupted. Cas hung his head and for one moment Gadreel wanted to reassure him that everything would be all right. Only that he didn't know if Dean's anger didn't have cause.

„Metatron has somewhere found a blood brother of Sam and Dean's.“ 

Gadreel's breath stilled. He didn't need to hear Sam's tired explanation to realise what this meant.

Metatron tried to trade this brother for him. No clan, however large, would ever leave a blood-relative in their enemy's hands. They were too valuable. Much more than Gadreel, clan-foreign, untrained, bought by mistake, ever would be.

„Wh-who is he? Are you sure he's related to you?“ he asked nonetheless, clinging to every straw.

„His name is Adam.“ Sam said. He sounded older than he had just last night. Much more weary. „Apparently Dad cheated on Mom-“  
„We don't know that.“ Dean barked.

„Dean, there is no other explanation. He's too young for this to have happened before their marriage and too old for Dad to have gone to someone else after Mom died.“

Dean grunted, as if he wanted to continue fighting but had run out of arguments.

„He's related to us by blood. Metatron sent DNA profiles as proof and they seem to be genuine. We'll be running our own tests of course, but …“

But there wasn't much doubt. If this Adam wasn't a blood relative the whole deal would blow up as soon as Sam and Dean found out. He was the real deal. 

„And he wants me.“ Gadreel said, voice hollow. Sam nodded but he barely registered it. This couldn't be happening. Not now, not after everything. Sam _liked_ him. Sam had bought him a collar, had spent the night with him to keep him safe. 

The discussion of how to proceed sounded like white noise in his ears. There was no doubt how this would end. And yet he kept quiet, tried to steady his breathing and act as if he wasn't there. If he only made himself small and unnoticeable enough they would forget all about him. It was a childish thought, of course, but Gadreel wanted nothing more than to escape this situation.

His heart hammered in chest, weighing heavy against his ribs.

Just last night everything had seemed so perfect.

The conversation died out. Gadreel kept his eyes firmly on his knees.   
_Please let this not happen, please let everything turn out alright._

Sam's hand on his shoulder almost made him cry. He choked back tears, avoided his eyes as Sam knelt down in front of him. How could he have ever deluded himself into thinking he was worth their time?

„Gadreel? Look at me?“

He shook his head, too wound up for words. 

„I … I'm so sorry.“ Sam said. He sounded as close to tears as Gadreel felt. „I wish we had another choice. But Adam's … he's … there's nothing we can do. We have to …“

And then he said the words Gadreel had dreaded from the second he'd been bought.

„You have to leave.“

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, two chapters at once. Yay! This one's really short though but more'll come soon

 

 

 

You have to leave.

The words spun in his head, making him dizzy and nauseated. He didn't know where he took the composure to speak.

„Please.“ Gadreel begged with his voice shaking. The tears dropped freely now. There was no sense in holding them back anymore. „Please, Sam. Don't make me.“

He felt Sam's hands on his cheek like through a thick blanket. They were there, frantically wiping away tears, but it was as if they didn't really exist.

„I'm sorry. Gadreel, I'm so sorry. Don't cry, please.“

Apologies wouldn't change anything. And Gadreel didn't feel obligated to follow Sam's orders anymore. He didn't want to make it easier for Sam to throw him out. So he cried, pleaded with Sam to rethink. All it served to do was drive Sam away. He left Gadreel to his pleading, backed away and out of the room, followed shortly by Dean and Cas. He was alone.

 

Not an hour later the car arrived, pulling up in the driveway. 

Gadreel watched numbly as Gabriel got out, followed by the boy who had to be Adam. He couldn't bear to look at him, not with the knowledge that this boy was responsible for everything that happened.

Cas and Dean welcomed Adam, if not as heartily as one would a newly discovered relative normally. Of Sam there was no trace.

He'd retreated somewhere into the mansion, refusing to speak to anyone.

 

„The, um, car is waiting.“ Dorothy said. He hadn't noticed her approach. Neither had he heard her say 'um' ever before. She was usually so sure of herself. He considered ignoring her, leaving without looking back. But what happened wasn't her fault. So instead he allowed her to carry his bag, hastily packed by one of the servants, and assure him that they would find a way to get him back. Empty promises, but he appreciated it nonetheless. Jess and Becky waited in the hallway and Becky flung herself into his arms, sobbing.

„I'm so sorry, Gad. I wish we could do something to help.“

He accepted her farewell tight-lipped. Gabriel stood close by. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction of breaking into tears again.

While a part of him wanted to drag the goodbyes out for as long as he could, to stay home just a few minutes longer, a larger part of him knew it wouldn't end well. With a last nod to Jess he followed Gabriel to the car, an old model with a tinted glass window between the back and the driver's seat. Ushered into the back, the engine started even as he closed the door. They couldn't get away fast enough, it seemed. 

For a moment he thought he glimpsed Sam in the window of the second story, looking at him through the curtains. The impression was gone as fast as it had come.

 

Once or twice Gabriel tried to rope him into a conversation, but he never took the cue. He spent the time looking out of the window, watching the people outside go about their business. Not one of his family had been seen since captured by Metatron. Chances were he would never see the light of day again. He cared little for it. The time at the Winchester mansion had nothing but delayed the inevitable. He should be thankful. Should be happy at being given a few months of respite. He was neither happy nor thankful.

One thing struck him as odd, though, even through the haze that were his thoughts.

He'd been to Metatron's mansion before, had been almost kidnapped there. This wasn't the route to it.

„Where are we going?“ he asked, body taut with tension. They wouldn't just drive out of town and kill him, would they?

„Not to Metatron's.“ Gabriel said and had the gall to grin. Gadreel suppressed the urge to punch him in the face.

„Then where?“

Instead of an answer, the car pulled over and parked in an empty alleyway. They were far from the main roads, far from any kind of civilisation. No one would hear him here.

„Wrong question, bucko.“ Gabriel said. „Better question: Do you want to make Metatron pay?“

Before Gadreel could ask what the hell that was supposed to mean, the window between the two compartments rolled down. Gadreel's eyes widened. It couldn't possibly be.

„Lucifer?“

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, finally another chapter. I didn't originally plan on writing something out of Sam's PoV but it was unexpectedly fun to do it. It definitely served to release my creative juices.  
> Hope you enjoy :)

Gadreel left his collar behind.

Sam found it by pure chance, as he cleaned out his closet to send his remaining possessions after him. Becky offered to do it for him but he declined. The thought alone of anyone else touching Gadreel or the things that belonged to him made his stomach turn.

He took out a single piece, folded it and put it into one of the cardboard boxes. Sometimes he stared at it, wondering if Metatron would even allow Gadreel to wear them. Or if he didn't need clothing because he'd been put down like an animal. The last thing on his mind how Sam betrayed him, how he'd been sold out for a boy they'd never even seen. They should never have taken the deal. Damn Adam to hell, he wasn't worth the life of his omega, no matter what Dean and Cas said. He should have put his foot down, take a stand. But he hadn't. He'd given Gadreel away like a puppy after christmas, when it became too tenuous to deal with. His omega trusted him and Sam had stabbed him in the back without a second thought. And now he was trapped in Metatron's slimy fingers, afraid for his life and rightly so.

The sound of ripping cloth pulled Sam from his thoughts. In his anger he'd pulled at the fabrtic,crumpled in his fists, and tore it at its seams. He threw it into a corner and caught sight of a glint on silver. Handcrafted buckles on black leather, soft and sturdy silk lining the insides. It sat on the bed stand, in plain sight for anyone who bothered to look. Sam hadn't. Seeing Gadreel's bed empty would only drive home the fact that he was gone.

Now he sank onto the bed and reached for the collar. It was the softest leather they could find but still it scraped against his fingers like sand paper. His thumb dipped into the indentures of the words engraved into the leather.

_LITTLE BIRD_

What a ridiculous nickname for a man like Gadreel. In another time and place he would have been called bull, strong and unwavering, or lion, majestic and serene. But Gadreel hunched his shoulders, slipped in and out of rooms begging not to be noticed. He managed to look at people from under his eyelashes even if they were a foot shorter than him. The day they met, with only his ragged trousers, skin covered in goosebumps Sam hadn't been able to think of anything but a little bird, fallen out of its nest. He'd taken him in, gave him feathers to wear, seeds to grow strong on. And he'd thrown him to the snakes.

Someone knocked but Sam ignored it. Cas and Dean tried to talk to him, possibly to tell him how it wasn't his fault, how they had no choice. Sam didn't want to hear it.

It knocked again, more urgent this time.

„Sam, come out. Talk to me.“

It was his fault, all of it. He should never have gotten this close to Gadreel, should never have made him hope for a happy ending. With someone like Metatron involved in the business, Sam should have known things would never end well. But he just had to be selfish, hadn't he? He couldn't keep his hands to himself, couldn't just leave the poor sod alone. His actions put hope into Gadreel and then he went and quenched that hope between his fingers.

„Sam, open the damn door or I'll get Dorothy to kick it in, I swear to God.“

In a mood like this Dean didn't make empty threats. Sam took as much time as he dared shuffling over to the door.

Dean took one look at him and pulled him into his arms. No lectures, no accusations. For Dean to forego those he must look like shit.

„You look like shit.“ Dean confirmed as they separated.

Sam shrugged. He wasn't in the mood for witty retorts. Dean groaned and shook his brother's shoulders.

„Sammy, you gotta snap out of it. It's been days.“

„Just leave me alone, Dean. I know you want to help but this is nothing you can help with.“

He raised his hand to drag it through his hair, reminding him of the collar. Dean looked at it, then at Sam.

„At least come down and eat something.“

In the end it proved easier to just give in to Dean.

He'd just about contented with the fact of taking a bit of toast and water and going back to taking out Gadreel's clothes, when he found Adam sitting at the table. The boy talked to Cas in hushed tones. Neither had seen him yet. Sam stood rooted to the spot, wrath making him taste copper.

If it hadn't been for this little …

„Sam.“ Dean warned. Sam took a deep breath, only now noticing his fists clenched so hard the knuckles turned white.

„Get him away from me.“ he said and bit his tongue to keep from adding some choice words.

Thankfully Dean didn't argue. He traded some quick words with Adam who, after one look at Sam, scurried off.

„It's not Adam's fault.“ Cas chastised softly as Sam sat down.

He merely grunted. He realised he was being unfair, to Adam as well as Dean and Cas.

It wasn't any of their fault. If anyone was to blame it was Sam.

They had lunch in silence. Usually some of the others would trail into the conservatory to have their meals or just to drink some coffee and chat with the others. Today people went in and out without a word, heads lowered. It annoyed the hell out of Sam how no one would even look at him. At the same time he knew he'd be just as annoyed at any attempt at communication.

Dean wouldn't let him off without having eaten anything so he forced down some buttered toast as quickly as he could.

„We may have found the connection between Gadreel and Metatron.“ Cas said when Sam made to get up. He sank back into his chair.

„Doesn't really matter now, does it?“

„It might prove useful against Metatron in the future.“

Sam heaved a sigh.

„Fine. Where'd you get the information?“

The look Cas and Dean exchanged may have gone past him if he hadn't looked for it.

„Adam.“ he said. Sam's expression darkened.

„He overheard a conversation between Metatron and Lucifer a few weeks ago. Appa-“

„You mean, Metatron _let_ him overhear a conversation. If he didn't make it up in the first place.“

„We don't think Metatron meant for Adam to hear. And the facts match with what Kevin learned from the ledgers. Sam, come on. This isn't like you.“

Sam frowned but waved at Cas to continue. 

„Metatron hired Gadreel and some of his family seventeen years ago to act as bodyguards. That was right before he founded his own clan. He made some kind of deal with Michael's father. We suspect it was something highly illegal, something that could potentially make Metatron's claim to a clan void.“

Sam began to understand.

„And he's afraid Gadreel and the other ones hired that day might remember and come to tell. But why not just kill them outright? Why go to all the trouble of trying to buy or kidnap Gadreel?“

Cas shrugged.

„I have no idea. I was ten when it happened and don't remember much. I have called Michael but he is surprisingly … tight-lipped about the whole ordeal. Maybe Lucifer knows more. If he didn't agree with it then, maybe he'd be willing to talk now.“

„Then we should talk to him now.“

„I tried.“ Dean said. „But he won't answer his phone and no one has seen him at his mansion for two days.“

Time had been a blur since Gadreel was gone but it didn't take much to put two and two together.  
„He disappears the same day Gabriel comes to pick up Gadreel?“

„It _could_ be a coincidence.“ Cas supplied.

„Lucifer doesn't do coincidences. No, something's wrong. Have we heard anything from Metatron?“

„You mean like victory cries and happy dances in the streets at getting his will? No, he's been quiet.“

Sam swallowed. Hope rose like bile in his throat. It was probably nothing. He was grasping at straws. And it wasn't like Lucifer was a much better alternative to Metatron. But something was definitely going on. He didn't dare hope he could bring Gadreel back.

 

 

It would have surprised both Sam and Gadreel that at this precise moment, fifty miles apart they had the same thought running through their heads.

Making Metatron pay.

In this case Sam with all the resources the Winchester clan had at their disposal, knew only fractions of the story from second-hand sources. Gadreel, cut off from the only people he knew, with an uncertain future ahead of him, heard the full story. Memories deemed inconsequential returned to provide the illustrations.

 

 

 

The facts were these:  
At this point 17 years, nine months, 16 days, 12 hours, 5 minutes and 49 seconds earlier Lucifer and Gabriel were deeply and irrevocably in love.

They snuck out in the night to meet in the old barn, up the ladders in a heap of hay where no one would ever ever find them. There, fifteen year old Lucifer and 14 ½ year old Gabriel shared stories of the day, opinions about teachers, and their first kisses. The February nights were still cold which proved to be an excellent reason to share not just words and lip contact but also body heat. Snuggled together like kittens and equally as happy and optimistic neither boy listened for the door opening and closing. The sounds of steps they attributed to animals, the creaking of the ladder to the wind. After all, who would look for them at this hour of the night, when everyone was fast asleep in their beds or at least pretended to be with some strategically placed pillows under the blanket. 

All Lucifer could think of was how soft Gabriel's belly felt against his hands and all Gabriel could think of was how no one in his entire life had ever been as radiant as Lucifer.

The hay pricked their skin but kept them warm and concealed. Unfortunately dried grass lacked in the sound muffling department which caused the anonymous visitor to pinpoint the location of the boys and throw the hay aside. And that was how Michael, 16 years old and heir to the clan, found his little brothers quite literally rolling in the hay. 

 

What followed was a lot of screaming. First to go was Michael who expressed in no uncertain words his disgust at two alphas loving each other. Lucifer followed half with insults half with pleading not to tell their father. But perhaps as retribution for being called a 'dressed up, sorry excuse for a cow turd' that was exactly what Michael did.

Their father didn't scream. He didn't even bellow or shout. In fact, as Lucifer and Gabriel with hay in their hair and wrinkles in their clothes, stood before the man, they wished he would have screamed. The silence was, in a way, worse. 

It was Lucifer who broke under the pressure of a disappointed father and swore to the heavens that he loved Gabriel and would love him for the rest of his life. To them it made no difference that they were both alphas, to them the only thing that mattered was the presence of the other.

No amount of withheld privileges, lectures and beatings made Lucifer retract his statements. He swore he loved Gabriel with lips too swollen to form proper sentences. And Gabriel, while not as vocal as his brother, made it clear in quieter ways that nothing would change his mind. He stayed at Lucifer's side, clutched his hand until pried off, took every punishment without a word.

Seven months, 24 days, 16 hours, 9 minutes and 12 seconds after being discovered, their father was approached by Metatron, who had recently found himself clanless and sought the funding and one little favour to found his own.

Twenty years ago that would not have been a problem but these days you had to be afraid of John and Mary Winchester knocking at your door and demanding proof the bloodline could be continued. Without an heir, no clan could be founded, no matter how much the world would benefit from it. Which put Metatron in a sticky position, as he was infertile.

Under other circumstances the leader of the greatest clan in the United States and possibly the entire American continent would never have struck a deal with a nobody like Metatron. But two of his sons, still madly and, these days, quite desperately in love with each other, presented a problem still. And so, in the middle of the night with only a few clanless hirelings witnessing the event, Gabriel was given to Metatron to pose as his son and heir. The only condition being that Metatron would move far, far away where no one recognised the boy. 

Lucifer raged against his father, raged against Metatron until it was made clear that Metatron could always get another heir from somewhere whereas Lucifer would be hard-pressed to find another Gabriel whom he loved as much as this one.

And so, Michael holding his shoulder in a vice-like grip to keep him from running, Lucifer watched the car with all his dreams and all his love drive away.

 

But he never forgot about Gabriel. Months he spent gathering what little allies he had and on the eve of his 16 th birthday he formally split away from his clan and followed Gabriel and Metatron. With money in his pockets and the business sense of a sociopathic shark Lucifer was confident in his ability to free Gabriel of Metatron's clutches. What he hadn't counted on was that Metatron had found out about the forbidden love between Lucifer and Gabriel. Whether or not the word blackmail was in any way aesthetically pleasing, it was still used to outline the terms of the bountiful business relationship Lucifer and Metatron would have. And so, fuming, biding his time and watching his brother from afar, Lucifer waited for the right moment.

 

 

 

 

„He took seventy percent of my yearly revenue, always holding Gabriel over my head. I couldn't out him publicly. The moment I did that Metatron would have killed him. I had no other choice but to be his bitch.“

Gadreel tried not to let it show how the idea of two alphas together made him feel. He wasn't disgusted, not as such. But the concept still sat wrong with him. Deciding he wasn't one to judge he ventured:  
„Why not tell one of your allies? Bring Gabriel to safety, deal with Metatron. Even if you alone lacked the resources, surely …“

„And how long do you think until they found out about Gabriel and me? If Metatron's infertility is revealed, Gabriel is exiled alongside with him. If they find out about us, they may just lynch us.“ Lucifer said. With no twitch, no tone of voice let he show if telling a secret seventeen years old got to him in any way. He sat on the creaking chair – the only one in the rundown hovel – like a king, Gabriel at his side. Now it was unthinkable to ever assume the two had been anything less than head over heels for each other. Gabriel looked at Lucifer as if he was the only bright thing in his life and in turn Lucifer held his hand as if it was the only thing worth holding. For seventeen years they held out for each other, reduced to hidden stares from afar, to hand-shakes instead of hugs, to hollow pleasantries instead of declarations of love.

„What changed?“ Gadreel asked, averting his eyes. The display of love both touched and hurt him deeply. What right had he to mourn Sam when these two had to endure seventeen years apart. „Something must have changed. You took a risk kidnapping me. If Metatron finds out it is you …“

„He knows already I expect.“ Lucifer said smoothly. „There is a reason we're sitting in an old cabin eating canned ravioli, you know? But you are right. I risked Gabriel's life to get you before Metatron and I am uncomfortable with the amount of luck I had to rely on to get him as well as you. But you are the last one of those who were there when the deal was struck. Metatron has hunted you and your family ever since, afraid that one of you would spill.“

„He need not have worried. I barely remember.“ Then a second thing came to Gadreel's mind. „You kept track of us. Do you know about my family, my sister and brother? Are they …?“

„Still alive, I suspect. Back in the day deals would be struck under the condition that no person present would end up dead at one of the parties hand. Metatron caught them and brought them to I don't know where. It is doubtful they are in good health but they are not dead. Yet.“

„Yet?“ Gadreel echoed, cold creeping up his arms.

„He's lost patience. And he's growing desperate. He must think I have been pushed too far. That I will make you reveal your secret no matter the consequences.“

„You can't make me.“ Gadreel said. „I may not like any of you but I have met exiles before. They are not allowed to get jobs, are barely tolerated begging on the streets. I won't subject anyone to that fate.“

To his surprise Lucifer smiled.

„Sam was right in loving you, it seems. You have a good heart, omega.“

„Don't speak of Sam.“ 

Lucifer hesitated.

„Of course. My apologies.“ he said with something that sounded suspiciously like pity. Then he continued: „I'm not planning on revealing anything. Metatron thinks his secret hangs in the balance and he _will_ try to kill you, deal or no. Which is exactly what I am relying on.“

Gadreel frowned.

„You want Metatron to try and kill me for what? Just to see him- ah.“

This time Lucifer's smile took on a proud note.

„I see you understand.“

Gadreel nodded thoughtfully.

„It is my life you're gambling with, though.“

„You will come out of this unharmed, I assure you.“

„Wouldn't it be easier to just let him kill me?“

„Would you agree to it if I didn't promise to protect you?“

„You could force me. In fact you didn't need to tell me any of this. Why?“

Lucifer didn't answer for a long time. He got up and checked the heating. Peaked through the curtains to check for any unsolicited visitors. And then, for what felt like hours, he looked at Gadreel. Just looked with an expression he couldn't interpret.

„Because you and Sam love each other.“

Gadreel sucked in a breath. Out of all the things Lucifer could have said.

„Please, don't speak about-“

„You wanted the reason?“ Lucifer said sharply. „That's the reason. From the moment that buffoon Dean Winchester bought you, Sam adored you. The way he looks at you makes that fact clear as day. Do you remember that party a month ago?“

How could he?

„When Sam noticed you were gone he came directly to me. He _hates_ me, omega. I always thought he'd rather stab his brother with a rusty spoon than ask me for help but there he was, _begging_ me to help him find you. You think it was coincidence that Haniel found you when he did? I kept an eye on you from the day you ended up at the Winchester's place because I _saw_ the way that boy looked at you after that auction. He wanted to protect you and while, granted, I had an interest in keeping you out of Metatron's hands, that was not the only reason. When I was a boy and saw Gabriel taken away I wished, I _prayed_ , for someone to be on my side. I know how Sam feels. I know how _you_ feel. I may be ruthless but I am not heartless. If I have a choice I _will_ keep you alive.“

Gadreel sat stunned by this admission. He couldn't bring himself to mind when Gabriel leaned up to kiss Lucifer. 

„And if not?“ he asked when the two had parted. „If you can not keep me alive?“  
„Then I hope you die believing Sam never betrayed you.“

 

 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the grand finale. There's some tying up loose ends, and we'll get to see some Destiel yet, but for the main plot, that's it.  
> Hope you enjoy

Gadreel had been to the Grand Opera House once before. Almost two decades ago he'd taken a job backstage, cleaning and hauling props. The smell of turpentine, make-up and the dust caught in acres of fabric stayed with him for years. Looking up at the men and women in their fancy costumes he'd wondered how their lives could be so different from his when they smelled the same air. How could one person have their noses filled with paint and wood and think of being assured a meal and the next inhaled and looked forward to immeasurable fame?

This part of the opera house didn't smell of any of that. This air was filled with tobacco and chocolates, interspersed by expensive perfume some of which he wore himself.

He shifted in his seat, looking around for the journalist he was supposed to meet. Lucifer had set the date and place expertly. The premiere of a new play every single person of importance attended. Even some representatives of Michael's clan had come from the east coast, sticking out from the others with their distinct dress styles. From his seat in the front he couldn't see most of the audience except for the few who sat close to him and those who'd taken their seats on the balconies. To his left, up in one of the boxes with curtains drawn, were Lucifer and Gabriel. They would sit and wait, hidden, with the door locked. Hopefully watching for assassins. Gadreel still didn't believe Lucifer would go out of his way to save his life. The plan would work, and better at that, if he died. Perhaps it was for the better, too. He never believed that he would die with a full stomach or fancy dress. This was more than he could have asked for. Perhaps he should make the best of it.

That was when he saw Sam.

He caught just a glimpse as in this moment the lights darkened for the grand opening, but there he had been. In the box just next to Lucifer's with Dean, Cas and the boy Adam at his side. Gadreel stared up even though he could no longer see him. Sam's presence hit him like a train. He shouldn't be surprised. Of course the Winchester clan would be here, Lucifer's plan relied on it in fact. And still. He had tried not to think about Sam too much since he left. Instead of his waking hours, Sam now haunted his dreams. He woke more than once, sweating, shaking from a dream in which they'd held each other only for Sam to turn to dust the moment he opened his mouth to confess his love. Grasping for someone who wasn't there anymore and had perhaps never been in the first place, Gadreel found himself in the cabin, Lucifer and Gabriel his only company. They slept together in a cot, more on than next to each other, clinging together in their sleep like dying men. Lucifer, the most dangerous man to cross your path, twitched and whined whenever Gabriel made the slightest move and clung even tighter. Gadreel saw the finger-shaped bruises Gabriel had on his arms and back and still he envied him. It was doubtful that anyone would ever hold him like the way Lucifer did Gabriel. Like the way Sam had not days before. He turned to the stage, forcing the image of Sam – dark shadows under his eyes, wrinkles in his suit jacket – out of his head.

The play was good as far as Gadreel could tell. People sang a lot and died a lot, often in daring sword fights. Occasionally there was a monologue about heartbreak. That, at least, Gadreel could relate to. Another short glance towards the boxes did nothing to reassure him. The curtain to Lucifer's boy were still drawn tight, the lights in the next still dimmed. Gadreel wondered if Sam had seen him. If he even cared.

Motion in the corner of his eye made him stir. Someone moved behind him. Gadreel threw himself forward just as the knife breached the upholstery of his seat. Someone screamed and the assassin dove over the seat. Gadreel scrambled to the side, apologising to the alpha lady he fell on and ran. He tripped over someone's feet, his chin cracking on a seat. Someone yanked his leg and almost sent him flying into a group of Crowley's men.

He turned around to see why no one had used his momentary imbalance to sever his head from his shoulders. The assassin fought someone else. Someone he knew.

„Run!“ Cole shouted as he went in for another attack. Gadreel didn't hesitate. He turned and ran as best he could, stepping on feet, tripping over dresses. Some people cursed at him but others had picked up on the commotion and tried to flee as well. By the time he reached the aisle, even the orchestra had stopped playing.

Flashlights swept over the audience as security searched for the assassin. Gadreel grunted as he found him. The assassin, an alpha by the smell but still shorter than him, launched himself at him, trying to bring them both to the ground. Gadreel held his ground, faltering but not falling. He caught himself just in time to see the knife.

Ironically the last thing he thought was that Sam had been right all along.

 

 

 

„I … am sorry.“ Lucifer said one arm slung around Gabriel who shivered madly and cried into his jacket.

„ _Sorry_? You dare be fucking _sorry_?“ He took a step back as Sam made to punch him, held back at the last moment by Cole.

„Boss, please. It's not his fault.“

„Not his …“ Sam breathed. „ _You used him as bait_. And all you had to offer was _one_ man to protect him? _One_ against Metatron's lackeys?“

„I couldn't be connected to this, Sam. I didn't think Metatron would make his move so soon. There were others waiting in the hall, I simply …“

„No, you used one of _my_ men to make it look like it was me protecting him.“ he turned on his heels to face Cole who shrunk back in shame. „And you! How long have you been working for Lucifer? Did you know what he was going to do? Did you _know_ what would happen to Gadreel?“

„Boss, no. I …“ he broke off. Not the bravest man in the world could have looked Sam in the face right now.

„This needed to end. Metatron could not be allowed to work any farther. And we have him. He had to act fast and we can trace the assassin back to him.“

Sam shook his head in defeat.

„You had it all planned out, didn't you, Lucifer?

„I never intended for anything to happen to him. I was convinced Metatron would strike later, that he-“

„Your fucking miscalculation _could have killed him_!“

At last Lucifer kept quiet. Nothing could soothe Sam's rage. He kept cursing everyone who had a hand in this, Lucifer, Gabriel, Cole and occasionally Metatron. Dean stood a bit off, on the phone with Jody to coordinate their efforts. It was likely Metatron would try to escape now that his attempt on Gadreel's life had failed. The assassin, secure in custody, had spilled even before Sam asked his questions. The choice between facing Metatron's wrath at being betrayed and Sam's wrath at someone trying to harm his omega was easily made.

„They have him on the run.“ Dean said as he approached. „He's trying for the border but we have people there. He's gonna be behind bars soon.“

He cast a look at Lucifer and Gabriel who still stood closer to each other than two alphas platonically would and didn't hide his disgust. Lucifer met his gaze calmly.

„Good. He'll pay for everything he did. As will you.“ Sam ground out turning to Lucifer. „This was all your fault. You put him in danger, you-“

„It was your fault, Sam.“

Five pairs of eyes landed on Gadreel as he stepped towards them. He swallowed, uncomfortable under the attention. His hand was heavily bandaged.

_The knife glinting in the light of the torches and Gadreel's heart in its course. Light flooding the hall at last and blood, blood everywhere. The knife edge-first in Gadreel's hand, dripping drops of blood and the assassin kneeling on the ground with Gadreel's foot on his throat._

Sam made a step towards him but stopped as Gadreel held his unwounded hand up.

„Gadreel?“ he asked, all anger evaporating as he spoke. 

„If you had never sold me out to Metatron none of this would have happened.“ Gadreel continued. His voice shook but there was a firmness in it that hadn't been there before. „You claimed you loved me and yet you traded me for some bastard alpha you've never met before. Lucifer went to great lengths to keep me out of Metatron's hands. If it hadn't been for him, I'd be dead already. And you'd be to blame.“  
„I …“ Sam's voice broke and he lowered his head. But he wasn't finished yet.

„You said you'd love me forever, Sam, and then you threw me away the first chance you got.“ He swayed on his feet, the excitement wearing off.

„I do love you.“

„Yeah?“ Gadreel walked up to Sam and grabbed him by the collar. He shook him, jaw clenched in anger. „ _Prove it_.“

„W-what?“

„Prove it.“ Gadreel repeated. „You want me? You want me to believe for a second that you meant what you said? Make me your mate. I don't care if I'm clanless, I don't care it's never been done before. I _deserve_ this. I could go anywhere, do anything. But here I am looking at the man who would have seen me dead for his damn family honour and I still want him.“

Sam looked up again, hope mixed with shame.

„I love you, Sam. I love you so much and I spent every minute together with the thought that I didn't deserve you. But I do. I deserve you and I deserve to be your mate. And if you love me as well, if it hasn't been all white lies, you know that.“

It was all Sam could do not to crush Gadreel in his embrace. He kissed him, madly, desperately, tears streaking down both their faces. Gripped his good hand and entwined their fingers, brought the other up to the nape of his neck and pulled them closer. 

„ _i love you, i love you, i love you_ …“ Sam whispered through his kisses. „You'll be my mate, you'll be everything you want to be, I'll give you everything I have. I'll make you mine you for the whole world to see so _no one_ can doubt you are everything to me.“

„Sam.“ Gadreel gasped, knees giving way as the relief took the last of his strength with him. Sam caught him.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote two versions of the Sam-Gadreel reunification actually. The other had a lot of "you lied to me, sam and how am I supposed to believe you love me"'s in it and while that was all fine and heartbreaking, I kinda like this version better. Sam spent the last dozen chapters trying to convince Gadreel he loves him and now Gadreel's at the point where he can accept it, where he can demand something for himself instead of pushing it all away. So now he's "You know what, I AM good enough for you" and I really like that.


	15. Chapter 15

„Castiel.“

„Gadreel.“

Thusly acknowledged Gadreel sat down next to the other man who patiently, trenchcoat in his lap, waited in front of Dean's study.

He'd just returned from a meeting with his family, or rather, his old family. Michael swore he had no say in his father's decision to be accomplice in Metatron's deceit but the resulting scandal gave Castiel a convenient way out. No one would ask questions as to why he'd left even though most could put two and two together. A bold move, considering that Dean had never made his intentions clear and Castiel would be clanless unless he found a mate in another clan. Everyone knew about their relationship, Gadreel explicitly more so, and Cas seemed to have faith that Dean would come to terms with it as well. Eventually. He wondered how he must feel. Sam had always acknowledged him publicly as his consort. But Cas watched Dean turn away in shame when asked about his relations, recognised the way the alpha would always be distant towards him when people prodded. It had to be terribly lonely.

„Does he love you?“ Gadreel asked.

Cas appeared surprised at the question and made a motion as if to deny its content but reconsidered.

„I suppose we never have spoken about what you saw when … when you saw what you did.“ he said with the hint of a smile. „Denying Dean's and my relationship would be futile.“

Gadreel said nothing.

Cas sighed deeply, still smiling fondly.

„Dean loves me. He has a unique way of showing it but he feels deeply for me. But there are things in what we have that he has a hard time dealing with. It has nothing to do with me but rather what he feels himself.“

„Because he's submissive.“ Gadreel lowered his voice as he said this. Technically what an omega and an alpha did in their bedroom was nobody's business, but there was still the stigma. A submissive alpha was only one step away from taking another alpha into his bed. Lucifer, blackmailed for 17 years, could have attested well to how well society received that particular setup.

„Yes. Enough to provide the occasional crisis in any case. I do have faith in his ability to work through this however. It is just a matter of ti-“

Cas was interrupted by Dean stepping out of his office. A vein on his neck stood out prominently and he wrung his hands as if he was in the middle of strangling someone.

„Michael?“ he asked.

„Denies all involvement. We can't pin him down either.“ Castiel replied smoothly, handing Dean the folder with the information. Dean flipped through it, obviously distracted by something else. It was a marvel to watch Castiel react to Dean's moods. He knew when to push, when to let up, when to use sweet words and when to get straight to business.

„What about Metatron?“ he asked, giving Dean an opening to vent his frustration.

„Still at large. We thought we had him at the border but when we stopped his limousine there was only one of his servants in the backseat, scared out of her mind. Hell knows where he is now.“

Dean motioned the two to follow him as he walked down the hallway towards the impromptu war room.

„All his accounts are frozen, his estates are under constant surveillance, our people watch the streets. He so much as breathes loud and we'll know it.“

„He'll have stashes throughout the city.“ Cas threw in.

„That's what I'm worried about. A couple of wads of cash, different clothes and a bus ticket to god knows where is just the thing he needs right now. Every station, bus or railway and all airports are covered however. People are looking for him.“

„What if he isn't trying to leave the country?“ Gadreel said. Dean scoffed.

„He'd be an even bigger idiot than I took him for if he tried to stay. An attempt on a Winchester consort's life? That means exile or death, and I won't be putting him where I can't see him.“

Charlie had called it the war room. At the time Gadreel had smiled at the name. It was one of the smaller ball rooms, converted to focus the combined efforts of three clans, Lucifer's, Gabriel's and the Winchester's, to find Metatron. People bustled in and out, delivering reports and taking them with them. Bobby and Ellen coordinated the efforts, currently in a debrief with Dorothy. Sam wasn't here, he was out with his Special Children, to scour the area for any signs of Metatron. Gadreel had seen him earlier that day but hadn't approached. Sam, against Dean's advice, had taken Demon Blood, the drug that made his Children so efficient. Formally a clan leader wasn't allowed to take any mind-altering drugs. Inofficially Gadreel saw no way anyone would ever confront an amped up Sam Winchester with that fact. He thought their eyes had locked just before Sam left but wasn't sure Sam had recognised him. Gadreel had withdrawn with a shiver and a prayer for Sam to return safely and as himself.

„Give me a status report.“ Dean ordered, already halfway over the maps.

„No sign of him anywhere to the west or south. Our people at the Mexican border keep an eye out and we made sure no one is on shift who takes bribes. Up north its harder, but I have already called the clans in Canada and they know to inform us if he's seen that way.“

„What about in our immediate vicinity? He could get easily lost in the bigger cities.“

„Every cop from Florida to Maine is on our pay roll. And there's hundreds of smaller clans and clanless who wouldn't mind securing a favour or two with us. Not a chance he's made it out that way.“

Dean made Ellen double the patrols either way.

„The team ready?“

„Yeah. You sure you want to go with?“

Dean was already shucking his suit jacket and tie.

„Am useless here. I butted heads with the other clans, the rest you can do. Tell Dor to meet up in five.“

As Dean made his way towards the locker room, Cas picked up his disgarded clothes, shaking his head in exasperation.

„That's gonna be fun.“

Gadreel turned on his heels. Cole leaned in the doorway, apart from the rest, and smiled. He was in full combat gear already.

„Dean's gonna ride our asses hard and mine double just to make a point.“ he explained further.

„You're still on the team?“, Gadreel asked. „I would have thought Sam and Dean kicked you out by now.“

Cole shrugged.

„And they would have, and probably will, as soon as we're done with Metatron. But I'm still damn good at my job and whether I'm on Lucifer's payroll or on theirs, we have the same goal. Not that I'm looking forward to what happens after.“ he added.

Gadreel didn't envy Cole's position. Lucifer was an ally at the moment but that coalition had a shaky foundation.

„How long have you been spying for him?“

„Big ol' Lucifer? Close to five months. Would have been years if he hadn't been forced to show his cards. Anyway, I'll have enough time explaining that to Dean-o and Sammy-boy when the dust has settled. I'm here to tell you something, since I don't think I'll get the chance later.“

As if on cue Dorothy yelled for Cole to hurry the fuck up. He picked up his rifle and stepped closer to Gadreel.

„I'm happy for you, Gad. You and Sam are good for each other and I wish we could have had more time to become better friends. I wish you both well. That's all I wanted to say.“

Cole didn't give him time to answer. He skipped out of the war room, gun slung over his shoulder, leaving Gadreel to stare after him dumbfounded.

After that there wasn't much to do except wait for news. He listened with half an ear to Ellen's status reports but otherwise kept to the sidelines. Whenever Sam's name fell he perked up but it was usually just to confirm a change in location. Sam and the Special Children spread fast, working in an outwards spiral from Metatron's residence to pick up any trace of the man. Gadreel didn't know how Demon Blood worked exactly. Though highly addictive the price didn't make it the drug of choice for the lower classes. He only heard stories about people developing superpowers, being able to see in absolute darkness, anticipating an enemy's movement before he thought to make them, jumping then stories high and breathing fire. It was the stuff heroes were made of. Until one took into account the downside. Everytime the drug was taken, no matter how long you went without before or how little you took, there was a chance of being irreparably changed. Sometimes a person went on a trip and never came down again. Eyes turned black under the influence refused to take on their original colour. A kind, generous man reduced to a cruel caricature of himself.

Ellen called Sam's name again, informing the war room that he had picked up a trail and Gadreel pictured him hunting Metatron without remorse. Eyes dark, concentrated on a single goal.

Gadreel pulled his knees to his chest, forcing the image out of his head.

He wished he could do something, anything to help the chase along. But Metatron was unpredictable, the only chance to take him a careful search and a decent spring of luck. He'd lost everything in a single night, clan, status and wealth alike. How humiliating it must have been to be brought low by a clanless omega who couldn't die when he was supposed to. Metatron had always been ruthless but the things he'd be capable of now that he had nothing more to lose …

No.

He wouldn't be that desperate.

Would he?

But it did make sense. In a weird, twisted way it made perfect sense. Somewhere in the room Ellen announced Sam still followed the trail. The map showed him circling back into the city. He was only minutes from the mansion.

Gadreel stumbled to his feet. Metatron wouldn't try to escape. Where to? Everyone knew who he was and the price the Winchester's had put on his head. No, there was only one thing Metatron could do before facing the inevitable.

He reached Ellen just as Sam called. His voice sounded ragged through the speaker, his vocal cords rough from the laborous breathing which the drug allowed him to ignore.

„Where's Gadreel?“ he demanded and in that moment Gadreel knew Sam had come to the same conclusion as him.

„Here, Sam. I'm with Ellen.“ he answered in her stead.

„Good. Stay there. Metatron is -“

„I know. I figured it out.“

Sam laughed, an uncanny sound that made shivers, and not entirely of the good kind, run down Gadreel's spine.

„Smart little bird. Then you know to stay right where you are and -“

„No.“

„No?“ Sam's voice took on a dark edge.

„If he thinks he can't reach his goal, he'll just withdraw. We have to make him believe he can win.“

„Forget it. You stay right where you are, Gadreel. Ellen, make sure he's under surveillance at all times. I'm coming back as fast as I can.“

„Sure, but what's going on? Sam?“

But he'd already cut the connection. She muttered a curse under her breath and turned around to tell someone to watch over Gadreel. It was too late. He was already gone.

 

No one noticed Gadreel as he made his way through the hallways and away from the mansion. Ellen would have everyone on high alert within minutes which meant he'd have to act fast. As long as Metatron was out there he wouldn't be able to close his eyes. Always he'd fear him around the next corner, ready to ambush him when he was least expecting it. This had to be over now.

He left the mansion through the back entrance, down the gravelly path that led to the main street. Metatron was close. He had to be. In their haste to cut off any means of escape no one had thought that he wouldn't attempt to flee at all. Ever since the attack at the opera Gadreel hadn't been out of sight. There had been no chance to exact any kind of vengeance.

But he was there. Watching. Waiting until Gadreel rounded the corner, putting him out of sight of the mansion and …

He expected the impact but was still thrown to the ground. A heavy weight pressed down on him, hands grabbed his shoulders.

„ _I told you to stay inside_.“ Sam hissed and it _was_ a hiss, full of wheezing air pressed through clenched teeth, every sharp sound amplified by his breaking voice.

For the first time Gadreel stared directly into Sam's black eyes. They weren't solid black like they looked from afar, but rather a swirling, moving vortex of black fluid coursing through the capillaries in Sam's eyes. It appeared as if there was no single point on which he concentrated, rather processing everything at once. Gadreel swallowed and thought Sam followed the movement of his adam's apple.

„We can't let him get away. Not after everything. Sam, you can't stop me.“

„Can't I?“

Gadreel hesitated.

„Okay, you probably can. But you won't. Because you respect me. I won't spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. This ends now.“

He expected more arguing, precious seconds in which Metatron could see them, if he hadn't already, and retreat. To his surprise Sam merely chuckled, low and with a threat somewhere hidden in his perceived good mood. He nuzzled Gadreel's neck and bit him just where his collar would be if he wore it.

„Look at you, getting all bossy. We'll do it your way then.“

Sam got to his feet, sweeping Gadreel up as if he was a child.

„Keep your distance.“, Gadreel said, feeling awkward about giving his alpha orders. Sam seemed to like the game well enough, though. He made a show of standing to attention. „I bet he knows you're around but if he thinks you can't get to me in time, he'll take his chances.“

Sam gave him a mocking two-fingered salute that was so unlike Sam Gadreel had to avert his eyes. Sam had promised him they would be mates. He would return from this high and keep that promise.

Without looking at Sam a second time he turned and ran. There were no footsteps behind him which probably meant Sam at least stuck to the plan.

A dozen metres separated them, then a hundred.

Six minutes of running distance lay between Gadreel and Sam when Metatron thought he could risk it. This time Gadreel anticipated the ambush and moved to the side just as Metatron charged him.

„YOU!“

Metatron was no match for Gadreel. He was taller, stronger, more level-headed. He caught his punches, even as Metatron raged against him.

„This is all your fault!“

Gadreel dodged the kick and watched him flail.

„If you cretin had never been born, none of this would have happened.“

The next punch was so weak, he didn't even bother to evade it. Metatron tripped, almost fell. But when he caught himself there was a wicked sheen to his eyes.

„I'll kill you. Just like I killed your family.“

He kneed Gadreel in the crotch. Gadreel went down on his knees, one hand braced the fall.

„I'll rip every single hair out of your head like I did with that whore Anna. And then I'll set you on fire like I did Abner.“

Gadreel coughed and cried out as Metatron stepped on his injured hand.

„Liar.“

„They're _dead_. And they screamed the entire time they were dying.“

Gadreel may have been stronger but Metatron was more persistent. He threw punches without regard to himself. They landed in the dirt off the road, twigs and rocks digging into Gadreel's back.

„Liar.“ he repeated, knocking Metatron's punch away. „I will find them. But you won't live to see it.“

Metatron snarled, scratching at Gadreel's hands as they reached around his neck. They pushed and pulled at each other. Each tried to get out of reach of the other and simultaneously attack. Gadreel had the practice to back up his will.

One strong snap of his hands and Metatron's body fell. The smell of unwashed clothes filled Gadreel's nostrils.

He lacked the strength to push Metatron off.

It was over. He hadn't believed it, not at the opera house nor during the search. Metatron lurked in the back of his mind like an awkward memory. Even now he half feared Metatron would simply vanish, a trick of the mind, a construct Gadreel's subconscious mind came up with to make him feel safe. It couldn't be that easy. A few minutes hassling and everything should be over? Everything should have turned out fine?

Sam heaved the lifeless body off him and took his face between his hands. His eyes seemed a shade lighter. Gadreel thought he could make out their original colour underneath the swirling blackness.

„Are you hurt?“ Sam asked, able to show concern for his omega even in this state. Gadreel shook his head as best he could in Sam's grip. He ached all over and the wound in his hand where he'd caught the knife had split open again. But the coil of tension residing in him for the last two months began unwinding. He barely felt the pain.

 


	16. Chapter 16

 

 

„I feel like shit.“ Sam groaned as he pulled a pillow over his head to chase away every last ray of light. Gadreel chuckled lightly.

„Not that I'm happy about your suffering but you feeling like shit is preferable to the alternative.“

Sam made an unappreciative noise. He blindly reached for Gadreel's hand and held it against his forehead, sighing at the coolness. Coming down from the high of Demon Blood was no easy process. The body demanded payment for pushing it past its limits and more so for ridding it of the toxin. It was a constant battle of too hot and too cold, Sam thrashing around restless and barely able to swallow his tea. At the moment it was too cold again for the most part. Sam had burrowed inside half a dozen of blankets, naked in case another heatwave overcame him. Only his brain allegedly burned, prompting Sam to press his forehead to various parts of Gadreel's equally naked body after his hand had warmed too much. Somehow with much shifting and Sam's mournful cursing, they ended up in a position that would work for a while, Sam's head in Gadreel's lap, kissing the inside of his thighs. Gadreel meanwhile carefully raked his hands through Sam's hair, worrying if he was still too sensitive for regular touch. Sam's blissful sigh reassured him.

„God, don't stop.“

Smiling Gadreel continued, tracing patterns over Sam's head and playing with strands of hair. They sat like that for hours, waiting for the last remants of the drug to leave Sam. Everytime Sam moved or kissed him or smiled up Gadreel was filled with another wave of gratitude that he'd come back from this trip. If he had any say in it Sam would never touch the stuff again. Luckily Dean was on his side in that regard.

It was dark by the time Sam fell into a deep slumber and Gadreel realised he hadn't slept in almost two days. From the moment he'd stepped into the opera house to snapping Metatron's neck the events had been a blur, everything happening at once. A bit of rest wouldn't hurt him. Gabriel tracked Anna and Abner down and they would wake him if there were any news. There were probably other things that needed taking care of but for the moment, for a few quiet hours, he could simply enjoy being in Sam's bedroom again, the alpha peacefully sleeping in his lap.

He didn't even wake when Gadreel moved them so he could lie down as well, Sam on top of him, limbs entangled.

 

 

 

Cas closed the door with a fond smile and returned to the study. He wanted to make sure Gadreel and Sam were alright but also, he admitted, watch them be together. A second-hand experience would have to do, seeing as he would never have it with Dean. It wasn't that he regretted being with Dean, he could never feel remorse about choosing him, but he did long for the same affections that seemed to come so easily to Sam.

„They good?“ Dean asked as Cas sat down in his usual chair. He should have been in bed but no matter how much Cas needled him he insisted on staying up just 'half an hour more' to get some work done. Despite Metatron's death Dean was on edge. Something still bothered him and Cas wished he would share his concerns.

„They're both sleeping. The last days have taken their toll on them.“

„You could say that.“ Dean muttered, shifting some paper back and forth. He picked up a pen as if to write something but put it down again, looking at it as if it jumped into his hand by itself.

Cas waited patiently for Dean to pick up the conversation again.

„Cas …“ Dean began and halted. A faint blush creeped on his cheeks.

„Yes?“

Dean looked up and their eyes met. Far too quickly Dean broke the eye contact.

„Dean?“ Cas inquired after several minutes of silence.

Dean huffed and got up. He strode over to Cas, a certain frustration in every step. Then he leaned down and kissed him long and deep.

Cas understood. He kissed back, carressed Dean's back and shoulders, rubbed away some of the tension. No matter how much he tried Dean couldn't tell him what he felt. So he chose actions instead. It had always been good enough.

But as their kisses grew more detached, laced with the same frustation that had filled Dean's gait, Cas also realised that maybe it wasn't good enough any longer.

„Cas, I …“ Dean began again and this time he continued. „I love you.“

Never in a dozen lifetimes had Cas expected to actually hear Dean say the words. He _knew_ , Dean made sure with every kiss, every bite and every lick that he knew. But he'd never heard it.

„I love you, too.“ he said back, feeling suddenly light-headed. Dean smiled with eyes closed. They had stopped kissing and now only shared each other's breaths.

„I know. I want to make it public. I don't care if you're a man. Hell, nobody around here gives a shit anyway. And what we do in the bedroom is nobody's business. But I want them to know that you're mine.“

Cas thought of Meg and that maybe Dean wanted very specific people to know who Cas belonged to, now that he was essentially clanless. But if he interpreted Dean's speech right, he wouldn't be for long.

„Dean, are you saying what I think you're saying? Are you … proposing?“

Dean breathed deeply as if to force all the anxiety out.

„We'll wait, of course. Sam has called dibs and we'll need to plan the whole thing and that will take months and then we'll have to wait until things are settled down and then we have to plan our ceremony, but … yeah. I want to make you my mate.“ he paused, the added: „If you're okay with that.“

Cas laughed, deep and content.

„Of course I'm okay with that.“

And then he kissed Dean, simply because he could and because from now on, no one else was allowed to.

 

 

They found Anna and Abner three days later with the help of Gabriel and some of his men. Hair torn out, burn marks all over their bodies but alive. Gadreel kept at a distance at first not wanting to overexert the two when they were so weak. But eventually, Sam at his side for moral support, he visited the two on their sick beds. Metatron had told them their older brother was dead. Seeing Gadreel sent them both reeling, first in shock then in relief. Before he knew it both were hugging him tight, weak arms trembling from the force they used. He drew them close, cast one look at Sam who merely nodded and retreated.

They moved in with the Winchester's as soon as they were able, marveling just as Gadreel had at the luxurious mansion and the warm welcome. Gadreel spent as much time as he could with them, mostly together with Sam who loved the two as if they were his own siblings. Which, amid the planning for the mating-ceremony gave him enough to fill the days.

 

 

 

„That's the third time you passed me, you know?“ Cole remarked as Gadreel indeed moved past him again. He was pacing, he knew. And yet he couldn't bring himself to stop. He shot Cole a look who just grinned.

„You have entirely too much free time on your hands to count the times I walk by you.“ Gadreel said.

„It's not my fault I'm still suspended. At least that means the bosses are unwilling to let me go. My good looks, I'm sure.“

Gadreel huffed but he felt better already. The ease wouldn't last long. Even now he heard cars pulling up to the mansion, allowing the dozens of guests to arrive. He had insisted on a public claiming and now his nerves got the better of him.

„Come on. No sense in you running a hole in the carpet. It'll be hours before everyone's here.“

Usually this time of day they would be sparring but today he couldn't get sweaty or exhausted. Instead Cole led him down into the basement and the music room.

„I hear you've been taking up the cello, so play a few tunes to calm down.“

He had and the lessons, though repetitive, never failed to give him peace.

„Only if you accompany me on the piano.“

Cole hesitated. As far as Gadreel knew, only he, Dorothy and Charlie knew of his hobby. Occasionally Gadreel saw him sneak downstairs, trying and failing to be inconspicous about the whole thing.

„Fine.“ Cole relented, making a show of being forced in the chair. Gadreel retrieved the Cello and waited for Cole to strike the first tune. Soon after music filled the room.

 

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

There had been speeches. Long-winded and testing everyone's bladders except for Gadreel's, whom Sam had wisely told not to drink anything prior to the ceremony.

Before the speeches there had been a reception. Clans from all over North America, and even some from Europe and Africa, came to take part in the celebrations. Only a few of them would attend the claiming but it was enough to make Gadreel's heart race. Gabriel had the gall to wink at him and confide he would be fighting for a seat up front. Lucifer in a suit resembling Gabriel's too much to be a coincidence had come up directly after, expressing his good wishes. There had been something sad in his eyes. He would never be allowed to mate with Gabriel, not officially and certainly not publicly.

Afterwards it had been a flurry of handshakes and small talk, Sam at his side as sure and safe as the sun.

And before the reception, in the weeks and months the two had spent their time planning the ceremony with every detail that entailed.   
It was how Gadreel remembered how to touch Sam, which steps to take in that intimate dance they choreographed. It looked natural to the audience although no one was under the illusion that this was anything but a performance.

He sat in Sam's lap on the platform that overlooked the ballroom and provided the perfect view for everyone attending.

Gadreel had promised himself not to look. But he found his eyes drawn to the ninety or so people who watched his every move. Castiel and Dean in the front, the audience filled with faces he knew, that he had to talk to after this.

„Look at me.“

Gadreel turned to Sam, who stroked his thumb over his cheek.

„Just concentrate on me, okay?“

It wasn't easy. You didn't just forget about almost a hundred people watching your naked body. But he leaned down and gently bit at Sam's lip, the way they rehearsed. Sam gave him a tiny smile, before licking up into his mouth, and cupped his ass cheeks. They moved against each other, backs arching more than usual, every motion exaggerated.

His own hands were cold and he saw Sam shiver under his touch, made to apologise and was interrupted by an unplanned kiss.

Sam wrapped his arms around him and pulled them closer together, his hard length pressing against Gadreel's.

He swallowed a moan at the contact but couldn't help the little twitch of his hips against Sam. He wondered if anyone beyond the front row had seen it.

„You're gorgeous.“ Sam whispered into his ear, concealing his words by nibbling at his earlobe.

Heat swept through him in waves as Sam lifted him up higher. He felt the tip of his cock against his cunt, and closed his eyes at the feeling of Sam filling him up slowly.

And suddenly he wanted to see the reactions. He took control, riding Sam deep and slow, lips trembling at the friction. And to his right, row after row, the audience looked just as captivated. A surge of pride filled him at the thought of being able to cause this kind of reaction with his mate. Only inches separated him and Sam and he used the proximity to kiss and bite his neck. Sam groaned, head thrown back, hair falling like silk. He quickened his pace, gut clenching with arousal. Another look to the audience showed that some had discarded their self-control in favour of palming themselves through their trousers. Time to up the stakes then.

While planning their mating Sam had taken great care to ensure that Gadreel would never be too exposed. Whenever during practice he'd felt the tiniest bit uncomfortable they'd changed the pattern. Now though Gadreel wanted to expose himself. Licking one last time over the bitemark on Sam's neck, he leaned back and braced his hands on Sam's legs. His cock jumped at the cool breeze, but the gasps from the audience made it worth it.

He rolled his hips, smiling as Sam bucked up. Not only the people in their seats appreciated his form. Sam's eyes wandered up and down his body, wide in wonder.

„Touch me, Sam, please.“ Gadreel said, fucking himself harder on Sam's cock. He was close but he didn't want to come without his alpha's hand on him. Sam acquiesed and wrapped his large hands around Gadreel, jerking him off hard. He faltered in his rhythm as his orgasm build up higher and higher until it sent him over the edge. Cum splattered his stomach and chest and through his clenching walls he felt Sam's knot swell. Not a second after Sam pulled him up and close again, pupils blown wide with lust and bit him just underneath the collarbone, hard enough to break skin.

Gadreel twitched and whined, the aftershocks ripping through his body harder than they had ever before. Sam had no intention of letting go either, sucking at the claiming mark while he filled him with his cum. Gadreel took one last glimpse at the audience and found himself grinning smugly at their combined red faces.

 

 

 

„That was hot as fuck. Any chance you two are up for a threesome? An orgy, maybe?“

Gabriel said over champagne later. Sam, clean and officially mated, laughed under his breath and winked at Gadreel who blushed but winked back.

„Come now, Gabe. Would _you_ share Gadreel if he was yours?“

It was Gabriel's turn to laugh. Sam didn't miss the side-eye towards Lucifer, who currently had the time of his life needling Dean and Cas over their relationship.

„No, I suppose I wouldn't.“

Sam leaned forward and lowered his voice. He needn't have, as the party was quite lively, especially for high society's standards.

„You know, if you and Lucifer ever need to … talk business without people asking questions, we'd be willing to provide an alibi.“

Gabriel raised his brows.

„You would? And what would be the price for that?“

„No price. You saved my omega's life. The way I see it, I owe you a favour or two.“

„Fair enough. You know, I might get back to you on that. Lucifer can drive a hard bargain. If you know what I mean.“

„Hard not to.“

They watched Gabriel make his way over to another group, closer to Lucifer. Undoubtedly both would use the social currents to drift as close together as they could. Sam was just about to ask Gadreel if he wanted a drink when the lights dimmed. Slow music started and the groups who'd occupied the dance floor for conversation made room for Gadreel and Sam. Again all attention rested on them. As he led Gadreel into the first steps, he was reminded that all this had only happened thanks to Dean's impulsiveness. Had he not bid on Gadreel months ago at the auction, they would never have talked, never have gotten together like they did. Gadreel would have been with Metatron and he without a mate. 

„What are you smiling about?“ Gadreel asked and his voice, as always, made Sam shiver pleasantly.

„Just thinking I ought to thank my brother.“

„Oh? What for?“

„For giving me you.“ Sam said and dipped Gadreel in the middle of the dance floor. He kissed his sweet lips, shuddering when Gadreel raked his hands through his hair. 

„And.“, he added. „For persuading you to wear a corset tonight.“

Gadreel's laughter pushed the music into the background, his bright smile lit up the room for Sam and Sam only. And would continue to do so for every day until their last.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it. Last chapter. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did :)


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